French and English:A Story of the Struggle in Americaby Evelyn Everett-Green. 

 CONTENTS

 BOOK 1: BORDER WARFARE. Chapter 1: A Western Settler. Chapter 2: Friends In Need. Chapter 3: Philadelphia. Chapter 4: An Exciting Struggle. 

 BOOK 2: ROGER'S RANGERS. Chapter 1: A Day Of Vengeance. Chapter 2: Robert Rogers. Chapter 3: The Life Of Adventure. Chapter 4: Vengeance And Disaster. 

 BOOK 3: DISASTER. Chapter 1: A Tale Of Woe. Chapter 2: Escape. Chapter 3: Albany. Chapter 4: Ticonderoga. 

 BOOK 4: WOLFE. Chapter 1: A Soldier At Home. Chapter 2: Louisbourg. Chapter 3: Victory. Chapter 4: The Fruits Of Victory. 

 BOOK 5: WITHIN QUEBEC. Chapter 1: The Impregnable City. Chapter 2: The Defences Of Quebec. Chapter 3: Mariners Of The Deep. Chapter 4: Hostilities. 

 BOOK 6: WITHOUT QUEBEC. Chapter 1: In Sight Of His Goal. Chapter 2: Days Of Waiting. Chapter 3: A Daring Design. Chapter 4: In The Hour Of Victory. 

 BOOK 7: ENGLISH VICTORS. Chapter 1: A Panic-Stricken City. Chapter 2: Surrender. Chapter 3: Friendly Foes. Chapter 4: The Last. 

Book 1: Border Warfare

Chapter 1: A Western Settler. 

Humphrey Angell came swinging along through the silent aisles ofthe vast primeval forest, his gun in the hollow of his arm, a heavybag of venison meat hanging from his shoulders. 

A strange, wild figure, in the midst of a strange, wild scene: hisclothes, originally of some homespun cloth, now patched so freelywith dressed deerskin as to leave little of the original material;moccasins on his feet, a beaver cap upon his head, his leather beltstuck round with hunting knives, and the pistol to be used at closequarters should any emergency arise. 

He was a stalwart fellow, as these sons of the forest had need tobe--standing over six feet, and with a muscular development tomatch his stately height. His tawny hair had been darkened byexposure to hot suns, and his handsome face was deeply imbrownedfrom the influences of weather in all seasons. His blue eyes hadthat direct yet far-away look which comes to men who live face toface with nature, and learn to know her in all her moods, and tostudy her caprices in the earning of their daily bread. 

Humphrey Angell was not more than twenty years of age, and he hadlived ten years in the forest. He had come there as a child withhis father, who had emigrated in his young life from England to thesettlement of Pennsylvania, and had afterwards become one of thescattered settlers on the debatable ground between the French andEnglish borders, establishing himself in the heart of the boundlessforest, and setting to work with the utmost zeal and industry togather round himself a little farmstead where he could pass his ownlater years in peace, and leave it for an inheritance to his twosons. 

Humphrey could remember Pennsylvania a little, although the life inthe small democratic township seemed now like a dream to him. Allhis interests centred in the free forest, where he had grown tomanhood. Now and again a longing would come upon him to seesomething of the great, tumultuous, seething world of whoseexistence he was dimly aware. There were times in the long winterevenings when he and his brother, the old father, and the brother'swife would sit round the stove after the children had been put tobed, talking of the past and the future. Then old Angell would tellhis sons of the life he had once led in far-away England, beforethe spirit of adventure drove him forth to seek his fortune in theNew World; and at such times Humphrey would listen with eagerattention, feeling the stirrings of a like spirit within him, andwondering whether the vast walls of the giant forest would for evershut him in, or whether it would be his lot some day to cross theheaving, mysterious, ever-moving ocean of which his father oftenspoke, and visit the country of which he was still proud to callhimself a son. 

Yet he loved his forest home and the free, wild life he led. Norwas the element of peril lacking to the daily lot--peril which hadnot found them yet, but which might spring upon them unawares atany moment. For after years of peace and apparent goodwill on thepart of the Indians of the Five Nations, as this tract of debatableland had come to be called, a spirit of ill will and ferocity wasarising again; and settlers who had for years lived in peace andquietness in their lonely homes had been swooped down upon, scalped, their houses burnt, their wives and children tomahawked--the raidbeing so swift and sudden that defence and resistance had alikebeen futile. 

What gave an added horror to this sudden change of policy on thepart of the Indians was the growing conviction throughout thesettlement that it was due to the agency of white men. 

France, not content with the undisputed possession of Canada, andof vast tracts of territory in the west and south which she had nomeans of populating, was bitterly jealous of the English colony inthe east, and, above all; of any attempts which it might make toextend its western border. 

Fighting there had been already. Humphrey had heard rumours ofdisasters to the English arms farther away to the south. He hadheard of Braddock's army having been cut to pieces in its attemptto reach and capture the French Fort Duquesne, and a vagueuneasiness was penetrating to these scattered settlers, who hadhitherto lived in quietness and peace. 

Perhaps had they known more of the spirit of parties beyond theirlimited horizon, they would have been more uneasy still. But habitis an enormous power in a man's life. Humphrey had gone forth intothe forest to kill meat for the family larder three or four days inthe week, in all seasons when the farm work was not speciallypressing. He came back day by day to the low-browed log house, withits patches of Indian corn and other crops, its pleasant sounds oflife, the welcome from the children, the approval of father andbrother if the day had been successful, and the smiles of thehousewife when he displayed the contents of his bag. It was almostimpossible to remember from day to day that peril from the silent, mysterious forest threatened them. They had lived there for tenyears unmolested and at peace; who would care to molest them now?

And yet Humphrey, who knew the forest so well--its mysterious, interminable depths, its trackless, boundless extent, rolling overhill and valley in endless billows--he knew well how silently, howsuddenly an ambushed foe might approach, spring out from the thick, tangled shelter to do some murderous deed, and in the maze of gianttimber be at once swallowed up beyond all danger of pursuit. 

In the open plains the Indian raids were terrible enough, but thehorrors of uncertainty and ignorance which enveloped the settlersin the forests might well cause the stoutest heart to quail whenonce it became known that the Indians had become their enemies, andthat there was another enemy stirring up the strife, and bribingthe fierce and greedy savages to carry desolation and death intothe settlements of the English colonists. 

Whispers--rumours--had just begun to penetrate into these leafysolitudes; but communication with the outside world was so rarethat the Angell family, who had long been self-supporting, and ableto live without the products of the mother colony away to the east, had scarcely realized the change that was creeping over thecountry. The old man had never seen anything of Indian warfare, andhis sons had had little more experience. They had been peacefuldenizens of the woods, and bore arms for purposes of the chaserather than for self-preservation from human foes, as did the bulkof those dwellers in the woods that fringed the western border ofthe English-speaking colony. 

"We have no enemies; why should we fear?" asked Charles, the elderbrother, a man of placable temperament, a fine worker with the axeor plough, a man of indomitable industry, endurance, and patience, but one who had never shown any desire after adventure or thechances of warfare. He was ten years older than Humphrey; and thebrothers had two sisters now married and settled in the colony. Theyounger brother sometimes talked of visiting the sisters, andbringing back news of them to the father at home; but Charles neverdesired to leave the homestead. He was a singularly affectionatehusband and father, and had been an excellent son to the fine oldman, who now had his time of ease by the hearth in the winterweather, though during a great part of the year he toiled in thefields with a right good will, and with much of his old fire andenergy. 

Humphrey was nearing home now, and started whistling a favouriteair which generally heralded his approach, and brought the childrentumbling out to meet him in a rush of merry welcome. But there wasno answering hubbub to be heard from the direction of the house, nopatter of little feet, no lowing of kine. 

Humphrey stopped suddenly short in his whistling, and bent his earforward as though to listen. A faint, muffled, strangled cry seemedto be borne to his ears. Under his bronze his face suddenly grewwhite. He flung the heavy bag from off his back, and grasping hisgun more firmly in his hands, he rushed through the narrow pathway;and came out upon the clearing around the little farmstead. 

In the morning he had left it, smiling in the autumn sunshine, apeaceful, prosperous-looking place, homely, quaint, and bright. Nowhis eyes rested upon a heap of smoking ruins, trampled crops, emptysheds; and upon a still more horrible sight--the remains of mangledcorpses tied to the group of trees which sheltered the porch. Itwas enough to curdle the blood of the stoutest hearted, and freezewith horror the bravest warrior. 

Humphrey was no warrior, but a strong-limbed, tender-hearted youth;and as he looked at the awful scene before him, a blood-red mistseemed to swim before his eyes. He gasped, and clutched at thenearest tree trunk for support. Surely, surely it was some feverdream which had come upon him. It could not, it should not be aterrible reality. 

"Humphrey, Humphrey! help, help!"

It was the strangled, muffled cry again. The sound woke the youngman from his trance of horror and amazement. He uttered a hoarsecry, which he scarcely knew for his own, and dashed blindlyonwards. 

"Here, here! This way. By the barn! Quick!"

No need to hasten Humphrey's flying feet. He rushed through thetrampled fields. He gained the clearing about the house and itsbuildings. He reached the spot indicated, and saw a sight he wouldnever forget. 

His brother Charles was tightly, cruelly bound to the stump of atree which had been often used for tethering animals at milkingtime just outside the barn. His clothes were half torn from off hisback, and several gaping, bleeding wounds told of the fight whichhad ended in his capture. Most significant of all was the longsemicircular red line round the brow, where the scalping knife hadplainly passed. 

Humphrey's stout knife was cutting through the cruel cords, evenwhile his horrified eyes were taking in these details. 

When his brother was released, he seemed to collapse for a moment, and fell face downwards upon the ground, a quiver running throughall his limbs, such as Humphrey had seen many a time in some wildcreature stricken with its death wound. 

He uttered a sharp cry of terror and anguish, and averting his eyesfrom the awful sights with which the place abounded, he dashed tothe well, and bringing back a supply of pure cold water, flung itover his brother's prostrate form, laving his face and hands, andholding a small vessel to his parched and swollen lips so that thedraught could trickle into his mouth. 

There was an effort to swallow, a quiver and a struggle, and thewounded man opened his eyes and sat up. 

"Where am I--what is it?" he gasped, draining the cup again andagain, like one who has been near to perish with thirst. "OHumphrey, I have had such an awful dream!"

Humphrey had so placed his brother that he should not see onopening his eyes that ghastly sight which turned the younger mansick with horror each time his eyes wandered that way. 

Charles saw the familiar outline of the forest, and his brother'sface bending over him. He had for a moment a vague impression ofsomething unspeakably awful and horrible, but at that moment hebelieved that some mischance had befallen himself alone, and thathe had imagined some black, nameless horror in a fevered dream. 

A shiver ran through Humphrey's frame. His blue eyes were dazed anddilated. What answer could he make? He busied himself with dressingthe wounds upon his brother's chest and shoulders, from which theblood still oozed slowly. 

"What is it?" asked Charles once again; "how did I come to behurt?"

Humphrey made no reply, but a groan burst unawares from his lips. The sound seemed to startle Charles from his momentary calm. Hesuddenly put up his hand to his brow, felt the smart of thesignificant red line left by the scalping knife, and the nextmoment he had sprung to his feet with a sharp, low cry ofunspeakable anguish. 

He faced round then--and looked!

Humphrey stood beside him shoulder to shoulder, with his arm abouthis brother, lest physical weakness should again overpower him. ButCharles seemed like one turned to stone. 

For perhaps three long minutes he stood thus--speechless, motionless; then a wild cry burst from his lips, accompanied by atorrent of the wildest, fiercest invective--appeals to Heaven forvengeance, threats of undying hatred, undying hostility to thosesavage murderers whose raid had made this fair spot into adesolation so awful. 

Humphrey stood still and silent the while, like one spellbound. Hescarcely knew his brother in this moment of passionate despair andfury. Charles had been a silent, placable man all his life through. Born and bred in the Quaker settlement, till he had taken to thelife of the forest he had been a man of quiet industry and toilrather than a fighter or a talker. A peaceful creed had been his, and he had perhaps never before raised a hand in anger against afellow creature. 

This made the sudden wild and passionate outburst the more strangeand awful to Humphrey. It was almost as though Charles was nolonger the brother he had known all these years, but had beentransformed into a different being by the swift and fearfulcalamity which had swept down upon them during these past fewhours. 

"I will avenge--I swear it! As they have done, so shall it be doneunto them. Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, life for life--is not thatwritten in the Scriptures? The avenger of blood shall follow andovertake. His hand shall not spare, neither his eye pity. Theevildoer shall be rooted out of the land. His place shall be nomore found. Even as they have done, so shall it be done unto them. "

He stopped, and suddenly raised his clasped hands to heaven. Atorrent of words broke from his lips. 

"O God, Thou hast seen, Thine eyes have beheld. If it had been anopen enemy that had done this thing, then could I perchance haveborne it. If it had been the untutored savage, in his ignorantferocity, then would I have left Thee, O Lord, to deal with him--toavenge! But the white brother has risen up against his own fleshand blood. The white man has stood by to see. He has hounded on thesavages! He has disgraced his humanity! O Lord God, give him intomy hands! let me avenge me of mine adversary. Let the ignorantIndian escape if Thou wilt, but grant unto me to slay and slay andslay amid the ranks of the white man, who has sold his soul forgain, and has become more treacherous and cruel than the Indianally whose aid he has invoked. Judge Thou betwixt us, O Lord; lookupon this scene! Strengthen Thou mine arm to the battle, for here Ivow that I will henceforth give my life to this work. I will tillthe fields no more. I will beat my pruning hook into a sword. Iwill slay, and spare not, and Thou, O God of battles, shalt be withme. Thou shalt strengthen mine arm; Thou shalt give unto me thevictory. Thou shalt deliver mine enemy into mine hand. I know it, Isee it! For Thou art God, and I am Thy servant, and I will avengeupon him who has defied Thee this hideous crime upon which Thineeyes have looked!"

Humphrey stood by silent and awed. An answering thrill was in hisown heart. He had averted his eyes from the ghastly spectacle ofthose charred and mangled corpses; but they turned upon them oncemore at this moment, and he could not marvel at his brother'swords. He, too, had been trained to peaceable thoughts and ways. Hehad hoped that there would soon be an end of these rumours of wars. His immediate forefathers had been men of peace, and he had neverknown the craving after the excitement of battle. 

Yet as his brother spoke there came upon him a new feeling. He felthis arm tingling; he felt the hot blood surging through his veins. He was conscious that were an enemy to show face at that momentbetween the trees of the forest, he would be ready to spring uponhim like a wild beast, and rend him limb from limb without pity andwithout remorse. 

But the Indians had made off as silently and as swiftly as theyappeared. Not a vestige of the band remained behind. And there waswork for the brothers at that moment of a different sort, and workwhich left its lasting mark upon the memory and even upon thenature of Humphrey Angell. 

Together the brothers dug a deep grave. Reverently they depositedin it all that was left of the mortal remains of those whom theyhad loved so tenderly and well: the kindly house mother, to whoseindustry and thrift so much of their comfort had been due; thelittle, innocent, prattling children and brave little lads, whowere already learning to be useful to father and mother. None ofthem spared--no pity shown to sex or age. All ruthlessly murdered;husband and father forced to watch the horrid spectacle, himself ahelpless prisoner, waiting for his doom. 

Humphrey had not hitherto dared to ask the question which had beenexercising him all the while--how it was that his brother's lifehad been spared. He also wanted to know where the old man theirfather was; for the corpses they had laid in the grave were thoseof Charles's wife and children. 

Charles noted his questioning glance around when the grave hadreceived its victims, and he pointed to the smoking ruins of thehouse. 

"He lies there. They bound him in his chair. They tied the babedown in his cradle. They set fire to the house. Heaven send thatthe reek choked them before the fire touched them! They lie yonderbeneath the funeral pyre--our venerable sire and my bonny, laughingbabe!"

He stopped short, choked by a sudden rush of tears; and Humphrey, flinging down his spade, threw himself along the ground in aparoxysm of unspeakable anguish, choking sobs breaking from him, the unaccustomed tears raining down his cheeks. 

The brothers wept together. Perhaps those tears saved Charles fromsome severe fever of the brain. He wept till he was perfectlyexhausted, and at last his condition of prostration so far arousedHumphrey that he was forced into action. 

He half lifted, half dragged his brother into one of the emptybarns, where he laid him down upon some straw. He rolled up his owncoat for a pillow, and after hastily finishing the filling in ofthe grave, he went back into the forest for his game bag, andhaving kindled a fire, cooked some of the meat, and forced hisbrother to eat and drink. It was growing dark by that time, and theblackness of the forest seemed to be swallowing them up. 

A faint red glow still came from the direction of the burninghomestead, where the fire still smouldered amid the smoking ruins. Humphrey closed the door of the barn, to shut out the sight andalso the chill freshness of the autumn night. 

He lay down upon the straw beside his brother, worn out in body andmind. But there could be no thought of sleep for either man thatnight; the horror was too pressing and ever present, and anguishlay like a physical load upon their hearts. 

The silence was full of horror for both; in self defence Humphreybegan to speak. 

"When was it, Charles? I was in the forest all day, and I saw andheard nothing. The silence was never broken save by the accustomedsounds of the wild creatures of the wood. No war party came my way. When was it?"

"At the noontide meal. We had all gathered within doors. There wasnone to give warning of danger. Suddenly and silently as ghoststhey must have filed from out the forest. We were alreadysurrounded and helpless before the first wild war whoop broke uponour ears!"

Charles put up his hands as though to shut out that awful yell, theechoes of which rang so long in the ears of those who had heard it. Humphrey shivered, and his hands clinched themselves nervouslytogether. 

"Why was I not here to fight and to die?"

"Better to live--and to avenge their blood!" answered Charles, witha gleam lighting his sunken eyes. He was silent awhile, and thenwent on with his narrative. 

"It was not a fight; it was only a slaughter! The children rushedscreaming from the house, escaping the first rush of the paintedsavages when they burst in upon us. But there were others outside, who hacked and slashed them as they passed. I had only my huntingknife in my belt. I stood before Ellen, and I fought like tendemons! God is witness that I did all that one man could. But whatavail against scores of such foes? Three corpses were heaped at mythreshold. I saw them carrying away many others dead or wounded, Our father fought too; and Ellen backed into the corner where thegun stood, and with her own hands she shot down two of the savages. 

"Would to heaven she had shot at the white one, who was tenfoldmore of a fiend! But he shall not escape--he shall not escape! Ishall know his face when I see it next. And I will not go down tothe grave till he and I have stood face to face once more, when Iam not bound and helpless, but a free man with weapons in my hand. That day will come; I read it in the book of fate. The Lord God, unto whom vengeance belongeth, He will cause it to come to pass!"

Humphrey was afraid of these wild outbursts, as likely to bring onfever; and yet he could not but desire to know more. 

"A white man? Nay, brother; that is scarce to be believed. A whiteman to league himself to such deeds as these!"

"A white man--a Frenchman. For I called upon him in our tongue, andhe answered me in the same, but with that halting accent which Iknow belongs to the sons of France. Moreover, he made no secret ofit. He called us dogs of English, who were robbers of the soilwhere none had right to penetrate save the subjects of his royalmaster. He swore that they would make an end of us, root andbranch; and he laughed when he saw the Indians cutting down thelittle ones, and covering their tender bodies with cruel wounds;nor had he any pity upon the one white woman; and when I raved uponhim and cursed him, he laughed back, and said he had no power toallay the fury of the savages. Those who would preserve themselvessafe should retire within the bounds of the colony to which theybelong. France would have an end of encroachment, and the Indianswere her friends, and would help her to drive out the common foe!"

Humphrey set his teeth and clinched his hands. The old instinctivehatred of centuries between French and English, never really dead, now leaped into life in his breast. He had heard plenty of talkduring his boyhood of France's boundless pretensions with regard tothe great New World of the West, and how she sought, by the simpleprocess of declaring territory to be hers, to extend her power overmillions of miles of the untrodden plains and forests, which shecould never hope to populate. He had laughed with others at theseclaims, and had thought little enough of them when with father andbrother he set out for the western frontier. 

There was then peace between the nations. Nor had it entered intothe calculations of the settlers that their white brethren wouldstir up the friendly Indians against them, and bring havoc anddestruction to their scattered dwellings. That was a method ofwarfare undreamed of a few years back; but it was now becoming aterrible reality. 

"But your life was spared?" said Humphrey at last; "and yet thescalping-knife came very close to doing its horrid work. "

"Yes: they spared me--he spared me--when he had made me suffer whatwas tenfold worse than death; yet I wot well he only thought toleave me to a lingering death of anguish, more terrible than thatof the scalping knife! They knew not that I had any to come to mysuccour. When he drew off the howling Indians and left me bound tothe stump, he thought he left me to perish of starvation andburning thirst. It was no mercy that he showed me--rather arefinement of cruelty. I begged him to make an end of my wretchedlife; but he smiled, and bid me a mocking farewell. 

"Great God of heaven and earth, look down and avenge me of mineadversary! I trust there are not many such fiends in human shapeeven in the ranks of the jealous and all-grasping French. But ifthere be, may it be mine to carry death and desolation into theirranks! May they be driven forth from this fair land which they havehelped to desolate! May death and destruction come swiftly uponthem; and when they fall, let them rise up no more!"

"Amen!" said Humphrey solemnly; and the brothers sat in silence fora great while, the gloom hiding them the one from the other, thoughthey knew that their hearts were beating in sympathy. 

"The war has broken out, " said Humphrey at last. "We can perchancefind our place in the ranks of those who go to drive out theoppressive race, whose claims are such as English subjects will nottolerate. "

"Ay, there will be fighting, fighting, fighting now till they aredriven forth, and till England's flag waves proudly over this greatland!" cried Charles, with a strange confidence and exultation inhis tones. "England will fight, and I will fight with her. I willslay and slay, and spare not; and I will tell this tale to allwherever I go. I will hunt out mine enemy until I compass hisdeath. They have despoiled me of home, of wife, of children. Theyhave taken away all the joy of life. The light of my eyes is gone. Henceforth I have but one thing to live for. I bare my swordagainst France. Against her will I fight until the Lord gives usthe victory. The world shall know, and all ears shall tingle at thetale which I will tell. There shall be no quarter, no pity forthose who use such means as those which have left me what I amtonight!"

Humphrey could not marvel at the intensity of the ferocity inCharles's tones. It sounded strange in one of so gentle andplacable a nature; but he had cause--he had cause!

"Think you that the man was other than one of those wild fellowswho run from all law and order in the townships and become denizensof the wood, and little better than the wild Indians themselves?We. Have heard of these coureurs de bois, as they are called. Thereare laws passed against them, severe and restrictive, by their ownpeople. Perchance it were scarce just to the French to credit themwith all that this man has done. "

"Peace, Humphrey, " was the stern reply. "We know that the Frenchare inciting the Indians against our peaceful settlers, and thatwhat has happened here today is happening in other places along ourscattered frontier. The work is the work of France, and againstFrance will I fight till she is overthrown. I have sworn it. Seeknot to turn me from my purpose. I will fight, and fight, and fighttill I see her lying in the dust, and till I have met mine enemyface to face and have set my foot upon his neck. God has heard myvow; He will fight for me till it be fulfilled. "

Chapter 2: Friends In Need. 

It was not to be surprised at that, after that terrible day andnight, Charles should awake from the restless sleep into which hehad dropped towards dawn in a state of high fever. 

He lay raving in delirium for three days, whilst Humphrey satbeside him, putting water to his parched lips, striving to sootheand quiet him; often shuddering with horror as he seemed to seeagain with his brother's eyes those horrid scenes upon which thefevered man's fancy ever dwelt; waking sometimes at night in asweat of terror, thinking he heard the Indian war whoop echoingthrough the forest. 

Those were terrible days for Humphrey--days of a loneliness thatwas beyond anything he had experienced before. His brother was nearhim in the flesh, but severed from him by a whole world of feveredimaginings. Sometimes Humphrey found it in his heart to wish thatthe Indians would come back and make a final end of them both. Allhope and zest and joy in life seemed to have been taken from him atone blow. He could neither think of the happy past without pangs ofpain, nor yet face a future which seemed barren of hope andpromise. 

He could only sit beside his brother, tend him, nurse him, pray forhim. But the words of prayer too often died away upon his lips. Hadthey not all prayed together, after the godly habit of thehousehold, upon the very morning when this awful disaster fell uponthem? Were these vast solitudes too far away for God to hear theprayers that went up from them?

Humphrey had never known what awful loneliness could engulf thehuman spirit till he sat beside the fevered man in the vastsolitude of the primeval forest, asking in his heart whether GodHimself had not forsaken them. 

It was the hour of sundown, and Humphrey had gone outside for abreath of fresh air. He looked ten years older than he had done afew days back, when he had come whistling through the forest track, expecting to see the children bounding forth to meet him. His eyeswere sunken, his face was pale and haggard, his dress was unkemptand ragged. There were no clever fingers now to patch tatteredraiment, and keep things neat and trim. 

There was an unwonted sound in the forest! It was distant still. Tosome ears it would have been inaudible; but Humphrey heard it, andhis heart suddenly beat faster. 

The sound was that of approaching steps--the steps of men. A fewminutes more and he heard the sound of voices, too. He had beenabout to dash into the shed for his gun, but the fresh soundsarrested his movement. 

He had ears as sharp as those of an ambushed Indian, and hedetected in a moment that the men who were approaching the clearingwere of his own nationality. The words he could not hear, but hecould distinguish the intonation. It was not the rapid, thin-sounding French tongue; it was English--he was certain of it!And a light leaped to his eyes at the bare thought of meeting abrother countryman in this desolate place. 

Probably it was some other settler, one of that hardy race thatfringed the colony on its western frontier. Miles and miles ofrolling forest lay between these scattered holdings, and since warwas but lately begun, nothing had been done for the protection ofthe hapless people now becoming an easy prey of the Indians stirredup to molest them. 

Humphrey knew none of their neighbours. Forest travelling was toodifficult and dangerous to tempt the settler far away from his ownholding. If it were one of these coming now, most likely he too hadsuffered from attack or fear of attack, and was seeking a friend inthe nearest locality. 

He stood like one spellbound, watching and waiting. The sound ofsteps drew nearer to the fringe of obscuring forest trees; thesound of voices became plainer and more plain. In another minuteHumphrey saw them--two bronzed and stalwart men--advancing from thewood into the clearing. They came upon it unawares, as was plainfrom their sudden pause. But they were white men; they werebrothers in this wild land. There was something like a sob inHumphrey's throat, which he hastily swallowed down, as he advancedwith great strides to meet them. 

"You are welcome, " he said. "I had thought the Indians had left noliving beings behind them in all this forest save my brother andmyself. "

No introductions were needed in this savage place; the face ofevery white man lit up at sight of a like countenance, and at thesound of the familiar tongue. The men shook hands with a heartygrip, and one said to Humphrey:

"You have had Indians here?"

Humphrey made an expressive gesture with his hand. 

"This was a week ago as fair a holding as heart of man could wishto see in this grim forest. You see what is left today!"

"Your house is burnt down, as we plainly see. Have you lost aughtbeside? Has human blood been spilt?"

"The corpse of my venerable father, and that of a bold baby boy, lie beneath yon heap of ruins which made their funeral pyre. Inyonder grave lie the mingled corpses of my brother's wife and fourfair children, hacked to death and half burnt by the savages. Andyet this work is not the work of savages alone. With them we havedwelt at peace these many years. The shame, the horror, thedisgrace of it is that we owe these horrors to the white sons ofFrance, who hound on the savages to make these raids, and stand byto see them do their bloody work!"

The two strangers exchanged glances--meaning glances--and one ofthem laid a hand upon Humphrey's shoulder, looking earnestly intohis eyes the while. 

"Is it so in very truth? So have we heard in whispers, but it was athing we could scarce believe. We have travelled far from the landsof the south to join our brethren of the English race. We heardrumours of wars cruel and bloody. Yet it seemed to us too strange athing to believe that here, amid the hostile, savage Indians, whiteman could wage war with white man, and take the bloody heathen manas his ally, instead of the brother who bears the name of Christ!"

Humphrey looked with some wonder and fascination into the face ofthe youth who spoke. It was a refined and beautiful face, notwithstanding the evidences of long exposure to sun and wind. Thefeatures were finely cut, sensitive and expressive, and the eyeswere very luminous in their glance, and possessed strangelypenetrating powers. In stature the young man was almost as tall asHumphrey, but of a much slighter build; yet he was wiry andmuscular, as could well be seen, and plainly well used to the lifeof the wild woodlands. His dress was that of the backwoods, dresseddeerskin being the chief material used. Both travellers woremoccasins on their feet, and carried the usual weapons of offenceand defence. 

Yet Humphrey felt as though this man was in some sort differentfrom those he had met in the woods at rare times when out hunting. His voice, his words, his phraseology seemed in some sort strange, and he asked him wonderingly:

"From whence are you, friends?"

"From the land of the far south--from the rolling plains of thegiant Mississippi, that vast river of which perchance you haveheard?"

"Ay, verily, " answered Humphrey, with a touch of bitterness in histone. "I have heard of that great river, which the French Kingclaims to have discovered, and which they say he will guard with achain of forts right away from Canada, and will thus command allthe New World of the West, pinning us English within the limits ofthat portion of land lying betwixt the ocean and the range of theAllegheny Mountains, " and Humphrey waved his hand in thatdirection, and looked questioningly at the men before him. 

He had an impression that all who came from the far south, from thecolony of Louisiana, as he had heard it called, must be in somesort French subjects. And yet these men spoke his own tongue, andseemed to be friends and brothers. 

"That was the chimera of the French Monarch more than a centuryago. Methinks it is little nearer its accomplishment now than whenour forefathers, acting as pioneers, made a small settlement in agreen valley near to the mouth of the giant river, waiting for theKing to send his priests and missionaries to convert the heathenfrom their evil ways, and found a fair Christian realm in that fairland. "

"Then were your forefathers French subjects?" asked Humphrey, rather bewildered. "If so, how come you to speak mine own tongue asyou do?"

"I come of no French stock!" cried the companion stranger, who hadremained silent until now, looking searchingly round the clearing, and examining Humphrey himself with curiosity; "I have no drop ofFrench blood in my veins, whatever Julian may have. I am FritzNeville. I come of an English family. But you shall hear all lateron, as we sit by our fire at night. I would hear all your tale ofdesolation and woe. We, for our part, have no cause to love theFrench oppressors, whose ambition and greed seem to know no bounds. Can you give us shelter by your hearth tonight? Food we have of ourown, since we find game in sufficient abundance in these foresttracks. "

As he spoke he unslung from his shoulders a fine young fawn whichthey had lately shot, and Humphrey made eager answer to the requestfor hospitality. 

"Would that we had better to offer! But the homestead is burnt. Mybrother lies sick of a fever in yon shed--a fever brought on byloss of blood and by anguish of mind. I have been alone in thisplace with him hard upon a week now, and to me it seems as thoughyears instead of days had passed over my head since the calamityhappened. "

"I can well believe that, " said the first speaker, whom hiscompanion had spoken of as Julian. "There be times in a man's lifewhen hours are as days and days as years. But let me see yourbrother if he be sick. I have some skill in the treatment offevers, and I have brought in my wallet some simples which we findwonderfully helpful down in the south, from where I come. I doubtnot I can bring him relief. "

Humphrey's face brightened with a look of joyful relief, and Fritzexclaimed heartily:

"Yes, yes, Julian is a notable leech. We all come to him with ourtroubles both of body and mind. 

"Lead on, comrade. I will cook the supper whilst you and he tendthe sick man; and afterwards we will tell all our tale; and takecounsel for the future. "

It was new life to Humphrey to hear the sound of human voices, tofeel the touch of friendly hands, to know himself not alone in theawful isolation of the vast forest. He led the way to the roughshed, which he had contrived during the past days to convert into arude species of sleeping and living room. He had made a hearth anda chimney, so that he could cook food whilst still keeping an eyeupon his sick brother. He had contrived a certain amount of rudecomfort in Charles's bed and surroundings. The place lookedpleasant to the wearied, travellers, for it was spotlessly clean, and it afforded shelter from the keen night air. 

They had been finding the nights grow cold as they journeyednorthward, and Fritz rubbed his hands at sight of the glow of thefire, and set to work eagerly upon his culinary tasks; whilstJulian and Humphrey bent over Charles, the former examining thecondition of his pulse and skin with the air of one who knows howto combat the symptoms of illness. 

He administered a draught, and bathed the sick man's temples withsome pungent decoction of herbs which he prepared with hot water;and after giving him a small quantity of soup, told Humphrey thathe would probably sleep quietly all night, and might very likelyawake without any fever, though as weak as a child. 

And in effect only a short time elapsed before his eyes closed, andhe sank into a peaceful slumber, such as he had not knownthroughout the past days. 

"Thank God you came!" said Humphrey with fervour; "I had thought tobury my brother here beside his wife, and the loneliness and horrorhad well nigh driven me mad. If he live, I shall have somethingleft to live for; else I could have wished that we had all perishedtogether!"

"Nay, " cried Fritz from the fire, "we can do better than that: wecan join those who have the welfare of the country at heart. We canpunish proud France for her ambition and encroachments, andperchance--who knows?--England's flag may ere long proudly wavewhere now only the banner of France has floated from her scatteredforts. "

But just at this moment Humphrey could not be roused to anypatriotic fervour. The sense of personal loss and horror was strongupon him. His thoughts were turning vaguely towards the mothercountry from which his fathers had come. For the moment the wildWest was hateful to him. He could not face the thought of taking upthe old life again. He had been uprooted too suddenly andruthlessly. The spell of the forest was gone. Sometimes he feltthat he never wished to look upon waving trees again. 

As they partook of the well-cooked supper which Fritz had provided, and afterwards sat smoking their pipes beside the fire, whilst thewind moaned and sighed round the corners of the shed, and whisperedthrough the trees around the clearing, he told these strangers thewhole history of his life, and how it had seemed to be suddenly cutin half a week ago, whilst the last half already began to look andfeel to him longer than the first. 

There was no lack of sympathy and interest in the faces of hishearers. When they heard how a Frenchman had been with the Indiansupon their raid, Fritz smote the ground heavily with his open hand, exclaiming:

"That is what we heard as we journeyed onward; that is the rumourthat reached us even in the far south. It was hard to believe thatbrother should turn against brother out here in these tracklesswilds, amid hordes of savage Indians. We said it must surely befalse--that Christian men could not be guilty of such wickedness!Yet it has proved all too true. We have heard stories during ourjourney which have filled our hearts with loathing and scorn. France is playing a treacherous, a vile and unworthy game. Englandis no match for her yet--unprepared and taken at a disadvantage. But you will see, you will see! She will arise from sleep like agiant refreshed! And then let proud France tremble for her bloodylaurels!"

His eye flashed, and Julian said thoughtfully:

"Ay, truly has she stained her laurels with blood; and she is evennow staining her annals with dark crimes, when she stirs up thesavage Indian to bring death and desolation to those peacefulsettlers with whom they have so long lived as friends. God willrequire their blood at the hands of France. Let her beware! for thehour of her destruction will not be prolonged if she sells herselfto sin. "

There was a long silence then between the three men; it was atlength broken by Humphrey, who looked from one to the other, andsaid:

"You have not yet told me of yourselves. Who are you, and whence doyou come? I have heard of vast plains and mighty rivers in thesouth and west, but I know nothing beyond these forest tracks whichlie about our desolated home. "

Fritz signed to Julian to be the speaker, and he leaned his backagainst the wall, clasping his hands behind his head. The firelightgleamed upon his earnest face and shone in his brilliant eyes. Humphrey regarded him with a species of fascination. He had neverseen a man quite of this type before. 

"Have you ever heard, " asked Julian, "of that great explorer LaSalle, who first made the voyage of the great river Mississippi, and founded the infant colony of Louisiana, albeit he himselfperished by the hand of an assassin in the wilderness, before hehad half achieved the object to which he was pledged?"

"I have heard the name, " said Humphrey; "I used to hear the men ofPhiladelphia talk of such things when I was a boy. But he was aFrenchman. "

"Yes, and came with a commission from the King of France hard upona century ago. My great-grandfather and his father were of thecompany of La Salle, although they bore their part in a differentexpedition from that which is known to the world. "

"Are you then French?" asked Humphrey, half disappointed, though hecould not tell why. 

Julian smiled, reading the thought in his heart. 

"French in little beside name, " he replied. "My great grandfather, Gaspard Dautray, was half English through his mother, anEnglishwoman; and he married Mary Neville, an English maiden, fromwhose family Fritz there is descended. In brief, let me tell youthe story. Long before La Salle had penetrated the fastnesses ofthe west, there had grown up in a green valley a little colony ofEnglish, outcasts from their own land by reason of their faith. They had lived at peace for long with the Indian tribes; but whenmore white men began invading their country, jealousy and fury wereawakened in the hearts of the Indians, and this little settlementwas in great danger. In their extremity this little colony sent toLa Salle, and though he himself was absent, his lieutenant sentthem a band of men to aid them in defending their lives andproperty, and in routing the attacking Indian force. 

"But it was no longer safe to remain in the green valley which hadsheltered them so long. They heard of the lands of the south, downthe great mysterious river, and they resolved to seek an asylumthere. 

"With the company of La Salle, and yet not attached to it, was aholy man whom all the world called Father Fritz; a priest, yet onewho followed not the Pope of Rome, but loved each Christianbrother, and recognized only one Church--the Church of thebaptized. He went with the little band, and they made themselves anew home in the land of the south. They were beloved of the Indiansabout them. Father Fritz taught them, baptized such as were trulyconverted, and lived amongst them to a hoary old age, loving andbeloved; seeking always to hold them back from greed andcovetousness, and teaching them that the hope for which they mustlook was the coming of the Lord Jesus Christ Himself to reign uponthe earth. "

Julian paused, looking thoughtfully into the fire. Humphrey heaveda great sigh, and said half bitterly:

"But the Lord delayeth His coming, and men wage war against theirbrethren. "

"Yes, verily; yet I think that should make us long the more for theday which will surely come. However, let me tell my tale. The greatenterprise of France in the south and west has come to but a verysmall thing. No chain of forts guards the great river. The highwayfrom Canada to the south has never been opened up. France isspeaking of it to this day. These very hostile movements towardsEngland are all part and parcel of the old plan. She still desiresto hold the whole territory by this chain of forts, and shutEngland in between the sea and those mountains yonder. You haveheard, I doubt not, how England is resolved not to be thus held incheck. Major George Washington and General Braddock have both madeattacks upon Fort Duquesne, and though both have suffered defeatowing to untoward causes and bad generalship, the spirit withinthem is still unquenched. Fort Duquesne, Fort Niagara, FortTiconderoga--these are the three northern links of the chain, and Ithink that England will never rest until she has floated her flagover these three forts. 

"We have come from far to the heart of that great struggle whichall men know must come. The day of rest for us seemed ended. Wehave been travelling all through the long, hot summer months, tofind and to be with our countrymen when the hour of battle shouldcome. "

Humphrey looked from one to the other, and said:

"There are only two of you. Where are all the rest from yoursmiling valley of the south? Were you the only twain that desiredto join the fight?"

"A dozen of us started, but two turned back quickly, discouraged bythe hardness of the way, and a few died of fever in the greatswamps and jungles: Others turned aside when we neared the greatlakes, thinking to find an easier way. But Fritz and I had our ownplan of making our way to New England, and after long toil andtravel here we are at the end of our journey. For this indeed seemslike the end, when we have found a comrade who will show us the wayand lead us to the civilized world again!"

"Ay, I can do that, " answered Humphrey; "I know well the road backto the world. Nor is it a matter of more than a few days' travel toreach the outlying townships. I have often said I would go andvisit our sisters and friends, but I have never done so. Alas thatI should go at last with such heavy tidings!"

"Heavy tidings indeed, " said Fritz, with sympathy; "yet we willavenge these treacherous murders upon those who have brought themto pass. "

"That will not restore the dead to life, " said Humphrey mournfully. 

"No, but it will ease the burning heart of its load of rage andvengeance. "

Humphrey's eyes turned for a moment towards his sleeping brother. He knew how welcome would be such words to him--that is, if heawoke from his fever dreams in the same mood as they had found him. 

"And yet, " said Julian thoughtfully, "we have been taught by ourfathers that brothers should live at peace together, even as we inour valley lived long at peace with all and with one another. Solong as the memory of our venerable Father remained alive there wasall harmony and concord, and every man sought his brother's wellbeing as earnestly as his own. "

"Can you remember the holy man?" asked Humphrey, with interest. 

"No; but my father remembered him well. He was well grown towardsmanhood before the venerable old man died at a great age. Mygrandfather has told me story after story of him. I have beenbrought up to love and revere his memory, and to hold fast thethings which he taught us. But after his death, alas! a new spiritgradually entered into the hearts of our people. They began to growcovetous of gain, to trade with the Indians for their own benefit, to fall into careless and sometimes evil practices. Before myfather died he said to me that the Home of Peace was no longer theplace it once had been, and that he should like to think that Imight find a better place to live in, since I was young and had mylife before me. "

"Was that long ago?"

"Just a year. My mother had died six months earlier. Thedissensions of the parent countries had begun to reach to us. Wehad been French and English from the beginning, but had dwelt inpeace and brotherly goodwill for nigh upon eighty years. We hadmarried amongst ourselves, so that some amongst us scarce knewwhether to call themselves French or English. But for all thatdisunion grew and spread. Stragglers of Louisiana found their wayto us. They brought new fashions of thought and teaching with them. Some Romish priests found us out, and took possession of the littlechapel which Father Fritz had built with such loving care, and theMass was said instead of that simpler service which he had drawn upfor us. Many of us the priests dubbed as heretics, and because wewould not change our views for them, they became angry, and we wereexcommunicated. It has been nothing but growing strife and disunionfor the past two years. I was glad to turn my back upon it at last, and find my way to a freer land, and one where a man may worshipGod according to his conscience; albeit I have no desire to speakill of the priests, who were good men, and sought to teach us whatthey deemed to be the truth. "

"I am a Protestant, " said Humphrey; "I know little about Romishdevices. I was taught to hate and abhor them. We dwelt among theQuaker folk of Pennsylvania. But we are not Quakers ourselves. Outhere in the wilds we must live as we can. We have the Bible--andthat is all. "

"People say of the Quakers that they will not fight!" said Fritzsuddenly. "Is that so?"

"I know not, " answered Humphrey; "I think I have heard my fathersay something of that sort. But surely they will fight to avengesuch things as that!" and he made a gesture with his hand as thoughindicating the burnt homestead and the graves of the murdered womanand children. 

"If they be men they surely will. You will go and tell them yourstory, Humphrey?"

"Ay, that I will!" answered Humphrey, between his shut teeth. 

Fritz sat staring into the fire for some time, and then he toobroke out with some heat. 

"Yes, it is the same story all over. It was the French who came andspoiled our happy home. If they had let us alone, perchance wemight have been there still, hunting, fishing, following the samekind of life as our fathers--at peace with ourselves and with theworld. But they came amongst us. They sowed disunion and strife. They were resolved to get rid of the English party, as they calledit. They were all softness and mildness to them. But those in whomthe sturdy British spirit flourished they regarded with jealousyand dislike. They sowed the seeds of disunion. They spoiled ourvalley and our life. Doubtless the germs were there before, but itwas the emissaries of France who wrought the mischief. If theycould have done it, I believe they would have taught the Indians todistrust us English; but that was beyond their power. Even theyheld in loving reverence the name of Father Fritz, and none of hischildren, as they called us all alike, could do wrong in theireyes. So then it was their policy to get rid of such as would notown the supremacy of France in all things. I was glad at the lastto go. We became weary of the bickerings and strife. Some of theelders remained behind, but the rest of us went forth to findourselves a new home and a new country. "

Humphrey listened to this tale with as much interest as it waspossible for him to give to any concern other than his own. Something of that indignant hatred which was springing into activelife all through the western continent began to inflame his breast. It had been no effect of Charles's inflamed imagination. The Frenchwere raising the Indians against them, and striving to overthrowEngland's sons wherever they had a foothold, beyond their immediatecolonies. It was time they should arise and assert themselves. Humphrey's eyes kindled as he sat thinking upon these things. 

"I too will go forth and fight France, " he said at last; and withthat resolve the sense of numb lethargy and despair fell away fromhim like a worn-out garment, and his old fire and energy returned. 

Chapter 3: Philadelphia. 

"I will go and tell my tale in the ears of my countrymen, " saidCharles, with steady voice but burning eyes, "and then I will goforth and fight the French, and slay and slay till they be drivenfrom off the face of the western world!"

The fever had left Charles now. Some of his former strength hadcome back to him. But his brother looked at him often withwondering eyes, for it seemed to him that this Charles was a newbeing, with whom he had but scant acquaintance. He could notrecognize in this stern faced, brooding man the quiet, homelyfarmer and settler whose home he had shared for so long. 

Their new comrades were glad of the rest afforded them by thenecessity of waiting till Charles should be fit to move. They hadbeen travelling for many months, and the shelter of a roof--eventhough it was only the roof of a shed--was grateful to them. 

Fritz and Charles took a strong mutual liking almost from thefirst. Both were men of unwonted strength and endurance, and bothwere fired by a strong personal enmity towards the French and theiraggressive policy. 

Julian told Humphrey, in their private conferences, something ofthe cause of this personal rancour. 

"There was a fair maid in our valley--Renee we called her--and herparents were French. But we were all friends together; and Fritzand she loved each other, and were about to be betrothed. Then camethese troubles, and the priest forbade Renee to wed a heretic; andthough she herself would have been faithful, her parents wereafraid. It seemed to all then that the French were going to bemasters of the land. There was another youth who loved her also, and to him they married her. That was just before we came away--adozen of us English youths, who could not stand the new state ofthings and the strife of party. Fritz has neither forgotten norforgiven. The name of France us odious in his ears. "

"And in yours, too?" asked Humphrey. 

Julian's face was grave and thoughtful. 

"I have my moments of passionate anger. I hate everything that isvile and treacherous and aggressive. But I would seek to rememberthat after all we are brothers, and that we all bear the name ofChrist. That is what Father Fritz of old sought to make usremember. Perhaps it comes the easier to me in that I have Frenchblood in my veins, albeit I regard myself now as an Englishsubject. I have cast in my lot with the English. "

Humphrey and Julian drew together, much as did Charles and Fritz. Julian was a year or two older than Humphrey, and Charles wasseveral years older than Fritz; but all had led a free open-airlife, and had tastes and feelings in common. They understoodwoodcraft and hunting; they were hardy, self reliant, courageous. 

It was of such men as these that the best soldiers were made in thedays that were at hand; although the military leaders, especiallyif they came from the Old World with its code of civilized warfare, were slow to recognize it. 

A heavy storm of wind and rain--the precursor of the comingwinter--raged round the little settlement for several days, duringwhich the party sat round their fire, talking of the past and thefuture, and learning to know each other more and more intimately. 

Charles recovered rapidly from the loss of blood and the feverweakness. His constitution triumphed easily over his recentillness, and he was only longing to be on the road, that he mightthe sooner stand face to face with the foe. 

And now the storm was abating. The sun began to shine out throughthe driving wrack of clouds. The woodland tracks might be wet, butlittle reeked the travellers of that. 

They bound upon their backs as much provision as would suffice fortheir immediate needs. They looked well to their arms andammunition. They had mended their clothes, and were strong andfresh and full of courage. 

The journey before them seemed as nothing to the pair who hadtraversed so many thousands of miles of wood and water. And thesettlers had friends at the other end who would remember them, andhave tears of sympathy to shed at hearing their terrible tale. 

The brothers stood looking their last upon the clearing which hadfor so long been their home. In Humphrey's eyes there was anunwonted moisture; but Charles's face was set and stern, and hislips twitched with the excess of restrained emotion. His eyes werefixed upon the mound which hid from his view the corpses of wifeand children. Suddenly he lifted his clinched hand towards heaven. 

"Strengthen, O Lord, this right hand of mine, that it may be strongagainst the nation whose crimes bring desolation upon Thy children. Be with us in the hour of vengeance and victory. Help us to renderunto them even as they have rendered to us. "

Julian and Fritz had withdrawn themselves a little, respecting theinevitable emotion which must come to men at such a moment. Humphrey turned away, and took a few uncertain steps, half blindedby the unwonted smart of tears in his eyes. He had come almost tohate this place of terrible associations; and yet it wrung hisheart for a moment to leave those nameless graves, and that littlelonely spot where so many peaceful and happy hours had been spent. 

Julian's hand was on his arm, and his voice spoke in his ear. 

"I know what it feels like; I have been through it. The smart iskeen. But it helps us to remember that we are but strangers andpilgrims. It is perhaps those who have no abiding city here whomost readily seek that which is theirs above. "

Humphrey pressed Julian's hand, feeling vaguely comforted by hiswords, although he could not enter fully into their significance. 

To Charles Julian said:

"'We must remember, even in our righteous wrath, that God has saidHe is the avenger. We can trust our wrongs in His hands. He willuse us as His instruments if He thinks good. But let us beware ofprivate acts of vengeance of our own planning. We must not forgetthe reverse of the picture--the mercy as well as the anger of God. We must not take things out of His hands into our own, lest westumble and fall. We have a commandment to love our enemies, and todo good to those that hate us. "

Charles looked fixedly at him. 

"I have not forgotten, " he said, in his strange, slow way; "I wasbrought up amongst those who refuse the sword, calling themselvesservants of the Prince of Peace. We shall see which the Lord willhave--peace or war. Do you think He desires to see a repetition ofsuch scenes as that?"

Charles pointed sternly to the ruined homestead--the grave besideit, and his gloomy eyes looked straight into those of Julian; buthe did not even wait for an answer, but plunged along the foresttrack in an easterly direction. 

 * * * * *

In a wide street in Philadelphia, not far from the Assembly Roomswhere such hot debates were constantly going on, stood anold-fashioned house, quaintly gabled, above the door of which hungout a sign board intimating that travellers might find rest andrefreshment within. 

The whole house was spotlessly clean, and its aspect was prim andsober, as was indeed that of the whole city. Men in wide-brimmedhats and wide-skirted coats of sombre hue walked the streets, andtalked earnestly together at the corners; whilst the women, for themost part, passed on their way with lowered eyes, and hoods drawnmodestly over their heads, neither speaking nor being spoken to asthey pursued their way. 

To be sure there were exceptions. In some quarters there wereplenty of people of a different aspect and bearing; but in thiswide and pleasant street, overlooked by the window of the hostelry, there were few gaily-dressed persons to be seen, but nearly all ofthem wore the dress and adopted the quaint speech of the Quakercommunity. 

From this window a bright-faced girl was looking eagerly out intothe street. She wore a plain enough dress of grey homespun cloth, and a little prim cap covered her pretty hair. Yet for all thatseveral little rebellious curls peeped forth, surrounding her facewith a tiny nimbus; and there was something dainty in the fashionof her white frilled kerchief, arranged across her dress bodice andtied behind. She would dearly have loved to adorn herself with someknots of rose-coloured ribbon, but the rose tints in her cheek gavethe touch of colour which brightened her sombre raiment, and herdancing blue eyes would have made sunshine in any place. 

She had opened the window lattice and craned her head to look downthe street; but at the sound of a footstep within doors she quicklydrew it in again, for her mother reproved her when she found herhanging out at the window. 

"What is all the stir about, mother?" she asked; "there be so manyfolks abroad, and they have been passing in and out of the AssemblyRooms for above an hour. What does it all mean? Are they baitingthe Governor again? Are they having another fight about the taxes?"

"Nay, child, I know not. I have been in the kitchen, looking to thesupper. Thy father came in awhile back, and said we had guestsarrived, and that he desired the supper to be extra good. That isall I know. "

"Something has happened, I am sure of that!" cried the girl again, "and I would father would come and tell us what it is all about. Healways hears all the news. Perhaps the travellers he is bringinghere will know. I may sit with you at the supper table, may I not, mother?"

"Yes, child; so your father said. He came in with a smile upon hisface. But he was in a great haste, and has been gone ever since. Sowhat it all means I know not. "

Susanna--for such was the name of the girl--became at onceinterested and excited. 

"O mother, what can it be? Hark at that noise in the street below!People are crying out in a great rage. What can it be? It was sothat day a week agone, when news was brought in that some poorsettlers had been murdered by Indians, and the Assembly would donothing but wrangle with the Governor instead of sending out troopsto defend our people. Do you think something can have happenedagain?"

The mother's face turned a little pale. 

"Heaven send it be not so!" she exclaimed. "I am always in fearwhen I hear of such things--in fear for my old father, and for mybrothers. You know they live away there on the border. I prayHeaven no trouble will fall upon them. "

Susanna's eyes dilated with interest, as they always did when hermother talked to her of these unknown relations, away beyond theregion of safety and civilization. 

To be correct, it should be explained that Susanna was not the realdaughter of the woman whom she called mother; for Benjamin Ashleyhad been twice married, and Susanna had been five years old beforeHannah Angell had taken the mother's place. But she never thoughtof this herself. She remembered no other mother, and the tiebetween them was strong and tender, despite the fact that there wasnot more than thirteen years' difference in age between them, andsome girls might have rebelled against the rule of one who mightalmost have been a sister. 

But Susanna had no desire to rebel. Hannah's rule was a mild andgentle one, although it was exercised with a certain amount of primdecorum. Still the girl was shrewd enough to know that her father'sleanings towards the Quaker code had been greatly modified by theinfluence of his wife, and that she was kept less strictly than hewould have kept her had he remained a widower. 

Hannah bustled away to the kitchen, and Susanna, after one morelonging look out of the window towards the crowd assembled in theopen space beyond, followed her, and gave active assistance in thesetting of the supper table. 

A young man in Quaker garb, and with a broad-brimmed hat in hishand, entered the outer room, engaged in hot dispute with anotheryouth of different aspect, whose face was deeply flushed as if inanger. 

"Your Franklin may be a clever man--I have nothing against that!"he exclaimed hotly; "but if he backs up the stubborn Assembly, andstands idle whilst our settlers are being massacred like sheep, then say I that he and they alike deserve hanging in a row from thegables of their own Assembly House; and that if the Indians breakin upon us and scalp them all, they will but meet the deserts oftheir obstinacy and folly!"

"Friend, " said the other of the sober raiment, "thee speaks as aheathen man and a vain fellow. The Lord hath given us a commandmentto love one another, and to live at peace with all men. We may notlightly set aside that commandment; we may not do evil that goodmay come. "

"Tush, man! get your Bible and look. I am no scholar, but I knowthat the Lord calls Himself a man of war--that He rides forth, sword in hand, conquering, and to conquer; that the armies inheaven itself fight under the Archangel against the powers ofdarkness. And are we men to let our brothers be brutally murdered, whilst we sit with folded hands, or wrangle weeks and months away, as you Quakers are wrangling over some petty question of taxationwhich a man of sense would settle in five minutes? I am ashamed ofPhiladelphia! The whole world will be pointing the finger of scornat us. We are acting like cowards--like fools--not like men! Ifthere were but a man to lead us forth, I and a hundred stoutfellows would start forth to the border country tomorrow to wagewar with those villainous Indians and their more villainous alliesthe crafty sons of France. "

"Have patience, friend, " said the Quaker youth, with his solemnair; "I tell thee that the Assembly is in the right. Who are thePenns these proprietaries--that their lands should be exempt fromtaxation? If the Governor will yield that point, then will theAssembly raise the needful aid for keeping in check the enemy, albeit it goes sorely against their righteous souls. But they willnot give everything and gain nothing; it is not right they should. "

"And while they wrangle and snarl and bicker, like so many dogsover a bone, our countrywomen and their innocent children are to bescalped and burnt and massacred? That is Scripture law, is it? thatis your vaunted religion. You will give way--you will yield yourprinciples for a petty victory on a point of law, but not to savethe lives of the helpless brothers who are crying aloud on allhands to you to come and save them!"

The Quaker youth moved his large feet uneasily; he, in common withthe seniors of his party, was beginning to find it a littledifficult to maintain a logical position in face of the pressingurgency of the position. He had been brought up in the tenets whichlargely prevailed in Pennsylvania at that day, and was primed withnumerous arguments which up till now had been urged with confidenceby the Quaker community. But the peace-loving Quakers werebeginning to feel the ground shaking beneath their feet. The daywas advancing with rapid strides when they would be forced eitherto take up arms in defence of their colony, or to sit still and seeit pass bodily into the hands of the enemy. 

Susanna was peeping in at the door of the next room. She knew boththe speakers well. Ebenezer Jenkyns had indeed been paying her someattention of late, although she laughed him to scorn. Much more toher liking was bold John Stark, her father's kinsman; and as therewas nobody in the room beside these two, she ventured to go a stepwithin the doorway and ask:

"What is the matter now, Jack? what are you two fighting about sohotly?"

"Faith, 'tis ever the same old tale--more massacres and outragesupon our borders, more women and children slaughtered! Settlersfrom the western border calling aloud to us to send them help, andthese Quaker fellows of the Assembly doing nothing but wrangle, wrangle, wrangle with the Governor, and standing idle whilst theirbrothers perish. Save me from the faith of the peace makers!"

Again the other young man moved uneasily, the more so as he saw thelook of disdain and scorn flitting over the pretty face of Susanna. 

"Thee does us an injustice, friend, " he said. "Was it not BenjaminFranklin who a few months back gave such notable help to GeneralBraddock that he called him the only man of honesty and vigour inall the western world? But the Lord showed that He would not haveus attack our brother men, and Braddock's army was cut to pieces, and he himself slain. When the Lord shows us His mind, it is notfor us to persist in our evil courses; we must be patient beneathHis chastenings. "

"Tush, man! the whole campaign was grossly mismanaged; all theworld knows that by now. But why hark back to the past? it is thepresent, the future that lie before us. Are we to let our provincebecome overrun and despoiled by hordes of savage Indians, or are weto rise like men and sweep them back whence they came? There is thecase in a nutshell. And instead of facing it like men, the Assemblytalks and squabbles and wrangles like a pack of silly women!"

"Oh no, Cousin Jack, " quoth Susanna saucily, "say not like women!Women would make up their minds to action in an hour. Say ratherlike men, like men such as Ebenezer loves--men with the tongues ofgiants and the spirit of mice; men who speak great swelling words, and boast of their righteousness, but who are put to shame by thebrute beasts themselves. Even a timid hen will be brave when herbrood is attacked; but a Quaker cannot be anything but a coward, and will sit with folded hands whilst his own kinsmen perishmiserably!"

This was rather too much even for Ebenezer's phlegmatic spirit. Heseized his broad-brimmed hat and clapped it on his head. 

"Thee will be sorry some day, Susanna, for making game of theQuakers, and of the godly ones of the earth, " he spluttered. 

"Go thee to the poultry yard, friend Ebenezer, " called Susannaafter him; "the old hen there will give thee a warm welcome. Go andlearn from her how to fight. I warrant thee will learn more fromher than thee has ever known before--more than thine own peoplewill ever teach thee. Go to the old hen to learn; only I fear theewill soon flee from her with a text in thy mouth to aid thy legs torun!"

"Susanna, Susanna!" cried a voice from within, whilst Jack doubledhimself up in a paroxysm of delight, "what are you saying so loudand free? Come hither, child. You grow over bold, and I cannot haveyou in the public room. With whom are you talking there?"

"There is only Jack here now, " answered Susanna meekly, althoughthe sparkle still gleamed in her eyes; "Ebenezer has just gone out. I was saying farewell to him. "

"Come back now, and finish setting the table; and if John will stayto supper, he will be welcome. "

John was only too glad, for he took keen pleasure in the society ofSusanna, and was fond of the quaint old house where his kinsmanlived. He rose and went into the inner room, where Hannah receivedhim with a smile and a nod. 

Susanna would have asked him what special news had reached the townthat day, but the sound of approaching feet outside warned her ofthe return of her father with the friends he was bringing tosupper. She flew to the kitchen for the first relay of dishes, andHannah left her to dish them up, whilst she went to meet theguests. 

Jack and the maidservant assisted Susanna at the stove, and a fewminutes passed before they entered the supper room, where thecompany had assembled. When they did so, the girl was surprised tonote that her mother was standing between two tall strangers, oneof whom had his arm about her, and that she was weeping silentlyyet bitterly. 

Susanna put down her dishes on the table and crept to her father'sside. 

"What is the matter?" she asked timidly. 

"Matter enough to bring tears to all our eyes--ay, tears of blood!"answered Ashley sternly. "These two men are your mother's brothers, who arrived today--just a short while back--as I hoped withpleasant tidings. Now have we learned a different tale. Their oldfather and Charles's wife and children have been brutally murderedby Indians, and he himself escaped as by a miracle. We have beentelling the tale to the Assembly this very afternoon. Ah, it wouldhave moved hearts of stone to hear Charles's words! I pray Heaventhat something may soon be done. It is fearful to think of thesufferings which our inaction is causing to our settlers in thewest!"

"It is a shame--a disgrace!" exclaimed Jack hotly, and then heturned his glance upon the two other men who were seated at thetable, taking in the whole scene in silence. 

Both wore the look of travellers; both were tanned by exposure, andwere clad in stained and curious garments, such as betokened thelife of the wilderness. Jack was instantly and keenly interested. He himself would willingly have been a backwoodsman had he beenable to adopt that adventurous life. 

Ashley saw the look he bent upon the travellers, and he made themknown to one another. 

"These friends have travelled far from the lands of the south, andhave been friends in need to our kinsmen yonder. Fritz Neville andJulian Dautray are their names. 

"Susanna, set food before them. Your mother will not be able tothink of aught just now. We must let her have her cry out before wetrouble her. "

The rest of the party seated themselves, whilst in the recess bythe window Hannah stood between the brothers she had parted fromten years ago, listening to their tale, and weeping as shelistened. 

Ashley turned to his two guests, who were eating with appetite fromthe well-filled platters placed before them, and he began to speakas though taking up a theme which had lately been dropped. 

"It is no wonder that you are perplexed by what you hear and see inthis city. I will seek to make the point at issue as clear to youas it may be. You have doubtless heard of the Penn family, fromwhom this colony takes its name. Much we owe to our founder--hiswisdom, liberality, and enlightenment; but his sons are hated here. They are absent in England, but they are the proprietaries of vasttracts of land, and it is with regard to these lands that thetroubles in the Assembly arise. The proprietaries are regarded asrenegades from the faith; for the Assembly here is Quaker almost toa man. They hate the feudalism of the tenure of the proprietaries, and they are resolved to tax these lands, although they will notdefend them, and although no income is at present derived fromthem. "

"Have they the power to do so?" asked Julian. 

"Not without the consent of the Governor. That is where the wholetrouble lies. And the Governor has no power to grant them leave totax the proprietary lands. Not only so, but he is expresslyforbidden by the terms of his commission to permit this taxation. But the Assembly will not yield the point, nor will they consent tofurnish means for the defence of the colony until this point isconceded. That is where the deadlock comes in. The Governor cannotyield; his powers do not permit it. The Assembly will not yield. They hate the thought of war, and seem glad to shelter themselvesbehind this quibble. For a while many of us, their friends, although not exactly at one with them in all things, stood by themand upheld them; but we are fast losing patience now. When it comesto having our peaceful settlers barbarously murdered, and ourwestern border desolated and encroached upon; when it becomes knownthat this is the doing of jealous France, not of the Indiansthemselves, then it is time to take a wider outlook. Let thequestion of the proprietary lands stand over till another time; thequestion may then be settled at a less price than is being paid forit now, when every month's delay costs us the lives of helplesswomen and children, and when humanity herself is crying aloud inour streets. "

Ashley, although he had long been on most friendly terms with theQuaker population of the town, was not by faith a Quaker, and wasgrowing impatient with the Assembly and its stubborn policy ofresistance. He felt that his old friend Franklin should knowbetter, and show a wider spirit. He had acted with promptness andpatriotism earlier in the year, when Braddock's luckless expeditionhad applied to him for help. But in this warfare he was sternlyresolved on the victory over the Governor, and at this moment itseemed as though all Philadelphia was much more eager to achievethis than to defend the borders of the colony. 

Hitherto the danger had not appeared pressing to the eastern partof the colony. They were in no danger from Indian raids, and theyhad small pity for their brethren on the western frontier. Betweenthem and the encroaching Indians lay a population, mostly German, that acted like a buffer state to them; and notwithstanding thatevery post brought in urgent appeals for help, they passed the timein wrangling with the Governor, in drawing up bills professing tobe framed to meet the emergency, but each one of them containingthe clause through which the Governor was forced to draw his pen. 

Governor Morris had written off to England stating the exceedingdifficulty of his position. His appeals to the Assembly to defendthe colony were spirited and manly. He was anxious to join with theother colonies for an organized and united resistance, but this wasat present extremely difficult. Others before him had tried thesame policy, but it had ended in failure. Petty jealousies did moreto hold the colonies apart than a common peril to bind themtogether. Political and religious strife was always arising. Therewas nothing to bind them together save a common, though rathercold, allegiance to the English King. Now and again, in moments ofimminent peril, they had united for a common object; but they fellapart almost at once. Each had its own pet quarrel with itsGovernor, which was far more interesting to the people at themoment than anything else. 

Julian and Fritz listened in amaze as Ashley, who was awell-informed man and a shrewd observer, put before them, as wellas he was able, the state of affairs reigning in Pennsylvania andthe sister states. 

"I am often ashamed of our policy, of our bickerings, of ourtardiness, " concluded the good man; "yet for all that there isstuff of the right sort in our people. We have English blood in ourveins, and I always maintain that England is bound to be thedominant power in these lands of the west. Let them but send usgood leaders and generals from the old country, and I will answerfor it that the rising generation of New England will fight andwill conquer, and drive the encroaching French back whence theycame!"

Chapter 4: An Exciting Struggle. 

It was an exciting scene. Susanna stood at the window, and gazedeagerly along the street, striving hard to obtain a sight of theseething crowd in the open square. 

She could see the tall, haggard form of her Uncle Charles, as shecalled him. He was standing upon a little platform that his friendshad erected for him in front of the Assembly Rooms, and he wasspeaking aloud to the surging crowd in accents that rang farthrough the still air, and even reached the ears of the listenersat the open window. 

For once Hannah made no protest when the girl thrust out her head. She herself seemed to be striving to catch the echoes of the clear, trumpet-like voice. Her colour came and went in her cheeks; herbreast heaved with the emotion which often found vent in those daysin a fit of silent weeping. 

"Mother dear, do not weep; they shall be avenged! Nobody can listento Uncle Charles and not be moved. Hark how they are shoutingnow--hark! I can see them raising their arms to heaven. They areshaking their fists in the direction of the windows of the AssemblyHouse. Surely those cowardly men must be roused to action; theycannot hear unmoved a tale such as Uncle Charles has to tell!"

"Yet even so the dead will not be restored to life; and war is acruel, bitter thing. "

"Yes, but victory is glorious. And we shall surely triumph, for ourcause is righteous. I am sure of that. And Julian Dautray says thesame. I think he is a very good man, mother; I think he is betterthan the Quakers, though he does not talk as if he thought himselfa saint. 

"O mother, there is Uncle Humphrey looking up at us! I pray you letme go down to him. I long so greatly to hear what Uncle Charles issaying. And I shall be safe in his care. "

"I think I will come, too, " said Hannah, whose interest andcuriosity were keenly aroused; and after signalling as much toHumphrey, they threw on their cloaks and hoods, and were soon outin the streets, where an excited crowd had gathered. 

"The posts have come in, " said Humphrey, as they made their wayslowly along, "and there is news of fresh disasters, and nearer. Ina few minutes we shall have more news. Men have gone in who promiseto come out and read us the letters. But the bearers themselvesdeclare that things are terrible. The Germans have been attacked. AMoravian settlement has been burnt to the ground, and all itsinhabitants butchered. Families are flying from the border country, naked and destitute, to get clear of the savages and theirtomahawks. Every where the people are calling aloud upon theAssembly to come to their succour. "

The crowd in the street was surging to and fro. Some were Quakers, with pale, determined countenances, still holding to their stubbornpolicy of non-resistance to the enemy, but of obstinate resistanceto the Governor and the proprietaries. The sight of these menseemed to inflame the rest of the populace, and they were hustledand hooted as they made their way into the Assembly; whilst theGovernor was cheered as he went by with a grave and troubled face, and on the steps of his house he turned and addressed the people. 

"My friends, " he said, "I am doing what I can. I have written tothe proprietaries and to the government at home. I have told themthat the conduct of the Assembly is to me shocking beyond parallel. I am asking for fresh powers to deal with this horrible crisis. ButI cannot look for an answer for long; and meantime are all ourhelpless settlers in the west to be butchered? You men of the city, rise you and make a solemn protest to these obstinate rulers ofyours. I have spoken all that one man may, and they will not hear. Try you now if you cannot make your voice heard. "

"We will, we will!" shouted a hundred voices; and forthwith knotsof influential men began to gather together in corners, talkingeagerly together, and gesticulating in their excitement. 

And all this while Charles, wild-eyed and haggard, was keeping hisplace on the little platform, and telling his story again and againto the shifting groups who came and went. Men and women hung uponhis words in a sort of horrible fascination. Others might talk ofhorrors guessed at, yet unseen; Charles had witnessed the things ofwhich he spoke, and his words sent thrills of horror through theframes of those who heard. Women wept, and wrung their hands, andthe faces of men grew white and stern. 

But upon the opposite side of the square another orator washaranguing the crowd. A young Quaker woman had got up upon somesteps, moved in spirit, as she declared, to denounce the wickednessof war, and to urge the townsmen to peaceful methods. Her shrillvoice rose high and piercing, and she invoked Heaven to bless thework of those who would endure all things rather than spill humanblood. 

But the people had heard something too much of this peacefulgospel. For long they had upheld the policy of non-resistance. Theyhad their shops, their farms, their merchandise; they wereprosperous and phlegmatic, more interested in local than innational issues. They had been content to be preached at by theQuakers, and to give passive adhesion to their policy; but the hourof awakening had come. The agonized cries of those who looked tothem for aid had pierced their ears too often to be ignored. Humanity itself must rise in answer to such an appeal. They werebeginning to see that their peace policy was costing untold humanlives, amid scenes of unspeakable horror. 

They let the woman speak in peace; they did not try to stop herutterances. But when a brother Quaker took her place and began asimilar harangue, the young men round raised a howl, and a voicecried out:

"Duck him in the horse pond! Roll him in a barrel! Let him betarred and feathered like an Indian, since he loves the scalpingsavages so well. Who's got a tomahawk? Let's see how they use them. Does anybody know how they scalp their prisoners? A Quaker wouldnever miss his scalp; he always has his hat on!"

A roar of laughter greeted this sally; and a rush was made for theunlucky orator, who showed a bold front enough to the mob. But atthat moment public attention was turned in a different direction bythe appearing upon the steps of the Assembly Rooms of a well-knowncitizen of high repute, who had until latterly been one of thepeace party, but who of late had made a resolute stand, insistingthat something must be done for the protection of the westernsettlers, and for the curbing of the ambitious encroachments andpreposterous claims of France. 

This grave-faced citizen came out with some papers in his hand, andthe crowd was hushed into silence. 

Overhead anxious faces could be seen looking out at the window. Itwas not by the wishes of the Assembly that such letters were madepublic; but many of them had been addressed to James Freemanhimself, and they could not restrain him from doing as he wouldwith his own. 

"My friends, " he said, and his voice rose distinct in the clearair, "we have heavy tidings today. You shall hear what is writtenfrom some sufferers not far from Fort Cumberland, where forty whitemen, women, and children were barbarously murdered a few days back. 

"'We are in as bad circumstances as ever any poor Christians wereever in; for the cries of the widowers, widows, fatherless andmotherless children are enough to pierce the hardest of hearts. Likewise it is a very sorrowful spectacle to see those that escapedwith their lives with not a mouthful to eat, or bed to lie on, orclothes to cover their nakedness or keep them warm, but all theyhad consumed to ashes. These deplorable circumstances cry aloud toyour Honour's most wise consideration how steps may speedily betaken to deliver us out of the hand of our persecutors the crueland murderous savages, and to bring the struggle to an end. '"

The reader paused, and a low, deep murmur passed through the crowd, its note of rage and menace being clearly heard. The speaker tookup another paper and recommenced. 

"This comes from John Harris on the east bank of the Susquehanna:

"'The Indians are cutting us off every day, and I had a certainaccount of about fifteen hundred Indians, besides French, being ontheir march against us and Virginia, and now close on our borders, their scouts scalping our families on our frontier daily. '"

Another pause, another murmur like a roar, and a voice from thecrowd was raised to ask:

"And what says the Assembly to that?"

"They say that if the Indians are rising against us, who have beenfriendly so long, then we must surely have done something to wrongthem; and they are about to search for the cause of such a possiblewrong, and redress it, rather than impose upon the colony thecalamities of a cruel Indian war!"

A yell and a groan went up from the crowd. For a moment it seemedalmost as though some attack would be made upon the Assembly House. The habits of law and obedience were, however, strong in thecitizens of Philadelphia, and in the end they dispersed quietly totheir own homes; but a fire had been kindled in their hearts whichwould not easily be quenched. 

Days were wasted by the Quakers in an unsuccessful attempt to provethat there had been some fraud on the part of the Governor in arecent land purchase from the Indians. And they again laid beforethe Governor one of their proposals, still containing the clausewhich he was unable to entertain, and which inevitably broughtmatters to a deadlock. 

The Quakers drew up a declaration affirming that they had now takenevery step in their power, "consistent with the just rights of thefreemen of Pennsylvania, for the relief of the poor distressedinhabitants, " and further declared that "we have reason to believethat they themselves would not wish us to go further. Those whowould give up essential liberty to purchase a little temporaryrelief and safety deserve neither liberty nor safety. "

The Governor, in a dignified reply, once more urged upon them theabsolute necessity of waiving for the present the vexed question ofthe proprietary estates, and passing a bill for the relief of thepresent sufferers; but the Quakers remained deaf and mute, andwould not budge one inch from their position. 

All the city was roused. In houses like that of Benjamin Ashley, where people were coming and going the whole day long, and wheretravellers from these border lands were to be found who could giveinformation at first hand, the discussion went on every day and allday long. Ashley himself was keenly excited. He had quite brokenaway from a number of his old friends who supported the Assembly inits blind obstinacy. Nobody could sit by unmoved whilst Charles andHumphrey Angell told their tale of horror and woe; and, moreover, both Julian Dautray and Fritz Neville had much to tell of theaggressive policy of France, and of her resolute determination tostifle and strangle the growing colonies of England, by giving themno room to expand, whilst she herself claimed boundless untroddenregions which she could never hope to populate or hold. 

Fresh excitements came daily to the city. Early one morning, as thetardy daylight broke, a rumble of wheels in the street below toldof the arrival of travellers. The wheels stopped before Ashley'sdoor, and he hastily finished his toilet and went down. 

In a few moments all the house was in a stir and commotion. Aterrible whisper was running from mouth to mouth. That cartstanding grimly silent in the street below carried, it was said, aterrible load. Beneath its heavy cover lay the bodies of abouttwenty victims of Indian ferocity; and the guardians of the loadwere stern-faced men, bearing recent scars upon their own persons, who ate and drank in stony silence, and only waited till theAssembly had met before completing their grim mission. 

The thing had got wind in the town by now, and the square space wasthronged. The members of the Assembly looked a little uneasy asthey passed through the crowd, but not a sound was made till allhad gathered in the upper room. 

Then from out the yard of the inn was dragged the cart. No horseswere fastened to it. The young men of the city dragged it out andpushed it along. The silent, grim-faced guardians walked in front. As it reached the square the crowd sent up a groaning cry, andopened right and left for the dreadful load to be set in positionbefore the windows of the great room where the Assembly had met. 

Then the cover was thrown back, and yells and cries arose from all. Shouts were raised for the Assembly to come and look at their work. 

There was no resisting the mandate of the crowd. White andtrembling, the members of the Assembly were had out upon the steps, and forced to look at the bodies of their victims. The crowdhooted, groaned, yelled with maddened fury. The advocates of peaceshrank into themselves, appalled at the evidences of barbaritiesthey had sought to believe exaggerated. It was useless now toattempt to deny the truth of what had been reported. 

Back they slunk into the Assembly House, white and trembling, andfor the moment cowed. The cart was moved on, and stopped in frontof house after house where notable Quakers dwelt who were notmembers of the Assembly. They were called to come to their windowsand look, and were greeted with hisses and curses. 

The very next day a paper, under preparation by a number of theleading citizens at the suggestion of the Governor, was presentedto the Assembly under the title of a "Representation. " It containeda stern appeal for the organization of measures of defence, andended by the dignified and significant words:

"You will forgive us, gentlemen, if we assume characters somewhathigher than that of humble suitors praying for the defence of ourlives and properties as a matter of grace or favour on your side. You will permit us to make a positive and immediate demand of it. "

The Quakers were frightened, incensed, and perplexed. Theirpreachers went about the streets urging upon the people thedoctrine of non-resistance, and picturing the horrors of warfare. The Assembly debated and debated, but invariably came to theconclusion that they must withstand the Governor to the last uponthe question of taxation. 

All the city was in a tumult and ferment; but when the news camethat a settlement only sixty miles away, Tulpehocken by name, hadbeen destroyed and its inhabitants massacred, even the advocates ofpeace grew white with fear, and the House began to draw up amilitia law--the most futile and foolish perhaps that had ever beensuggested even by lovers of peace--in the vain hope of appeasingthe people. 

But the people would not be appeased by a mere mockery. Theyclamoured for the raising of money for a systematic defence oftheir colony, and the ground was cut from beneath the feet of theAssembly by a letter received from England by the Governor--notindeed in response to his recent urgent appeals, but still writtenwith some knowledge of the unsettled state of the country. In thisletter the proprietaries promised a donation of five thousandpounds as a free gift for the defence of the provinces threatenedin so formidable a manner, provided it was regarded as a gift andnot as any part of a tax upon their estates, which were to remainfree according to the old feudal tenure. 

The Assembly upon hearing this could hold out no longer. They wereforced by the clamour of public opinion to strike out the debatedand debatable clause from the long-contested bill, and immediatelyit was passed into law by the Governor. 

"Ay, they have come to their senses at last--when it is well nightoo late!" spoke John Stark, with a touch of bitterness in histone. "They will furnish money now; but what can be done with thewinter just upon us? For six months we must lie idle, whilst thesnow and ice wrap us round. Why was not this thing done before oursettlements were destroyed, and when we could have pushed forth anarmy into the field to drive back the encroaching foe, so that theywould never have dared to show their faces upon our border again?"

Charles looked up with burning eyes. 

"What say you? Six months to wait? That will not do for me! Myblood is boiling in my veins; I must needs cool it! If theselaggard rulers, with their clumsy methods, cannot put an army inthe field before the spring, surely there are men enough amongst usto go forth--a hardy band of woodsmen and huntsmen--and hunt andharry, and slay and destroy, even as they have done!"

"That is what the Rangers do!" cried Stark, with kindling eyes; "Ihave heard of them before this. The Rangers of New England havedone good work before now. Good thought, good thought! Why not formourselves into a band of Rangers? Are we not strong and full ofcourage, seasoned to hardship, expert in our way with gun or axe?Why should we lie idle here all the long winter through? Why notlet us forth to the forest--find out where help is needed most, andmake here a dash and there a raid, striking terror into the heartsof the foe, and bringing help and comfort to those desolateinhabitants of the wilderness who go in terror of their lives? Whynot be a party of bold Rangers, scouring the forests, and doingwhatever work comes to hand? Men have banded themselves togetherfor this work before now; why may not we do the like?"

"Why not, indeed?" cried Fritz, leaping to his feet. "I pine in therestraint of this town; I long for the forest and the plain oncemore. My blood, too, is hot within me at the thought of what hasbeen done and will be done again. Let us band ourselves together asbrothers in arms. There must be work and to spare for those whodesire it. "

Ashley thoughtfully stroked his chin, looking round the circlebefore him. He was a shrewd and thoughtful man, and there wasnothing of cowardice in his nature, although he was cautious andcareful. 

"It is not a bad thought, Nephew John, " he said; "and yet I hadbeen thinking of something different for some of you intrepid andadventurous youths to do. I had thought of sending news of thestate of parties here to our friends and kinsmen in England. Whenall is said and done, it is to England that we must look for help. She must send us generals to command us, and she must help us withher money. There are many families across the water who would opentheir purses on our behalf right generously were our sad case madeknown to them. Letters are sent continually, but it is the spokentale that moves the heart. I had thought to send across myself tosuch of our friends and families as still regard us as belonging tothem. If they made a response such as I look for, we should soonhave means at our disposal to augment what the tardy Assembly maydo by an auxiliary force, equipped and furnished with all that canbe needed. But you cannot be in two places at once. 

"What think you, my young friends? Will you serve your distressedbrethren better as Rangers of the forest, or as emissaries toEngland?"

"Why not divide our forces?" asked John Stark; "there are enough ofus for that. I have often heard Humphrey speak of a wish to crossthe sea, and to visit the land from which we have all come. Why notlet him choose a comrade, and go thither with letters and messages, and tell his tale in the ears of friends? And whilst they are thusabsent, why should not the rest of us make up a party of boldspirits, and go forth into the wilderness, and there carry on suchwork of defence and aggression as we find for us to do?"

"Ay. I have no love for the unknown ocean, " said Charles; "I haveother work to do than to visit new lands. I have a vow upon me, andI cannot rest till it be accomplished. "

Humphrey and Julian looked at each other. Already they had spokenof a visit to England. Both desired to see the lands of the EasternHemisphere from whence their fathers had come. Hitherto they hadnot seen how this could be accomplished; but Ashley's words openedout an unexpected way. If the citizens of Philadelphia wanted tosend messengers to their friends across the water, they wouldgladly volunteer for the service. 

"If Julian will go with me, I will gladly go, " said Humphrey. 

"I will go, with all my heart, " answered Julian at once; "and wewill seek and strive to do the pleasure of those who send us. "

Ashley's face beamed upon the pair. He knew by this time that nobetter messenger than Julian Dautray could be found. He had a giftof eloquence and a singularly attractive personality. His nature wasgentle and refined--curiously so considering his upbringing--and hehad a largeness of heart and a gift of sympathy which was seldom tobe met with amongst the more rugged sons of the north. 

He had made himself something of a power already in the circle intowhich he had been thrown; and when it was known amongst Ashley'sfriends and acquaintance that his wife's brother, together withJulian Dautray, would go to England with their representations tofriends and to those in authority, a liberal response was made asto their outfit and introductions, and the young men were surprisedto find themselves suddenly raised to a place of such importanceand distinction. 

It was an exciting time for Susanna and for all in the house. JohnStark came to and fro, bringing news that he had found freshvolunteers to join the band of Rangers, who were already makingpreparations for departure upon their perilous life of adventure. 

Some of the older citizens looked doubtful, and spoke of therigours of the winter; but John laughed, and Charles smiled hisstrange, mirthless smile, and all declared themselves fearless andready to face whatever might be in store. Come what might, theywould go to the help of the settlers, be the Assembly ever sodilatory in sending help. 

"But you will not get killed?" Susanna would plead, looking fromone face to the other. She was fond of John, who had been like abrother to her all her life; she had a great admiration forhandsome Fritz, who often spent whole evenings telling herwonderful stories of the far south whilst she plied her needle overthe rough garments the Rangers were to take with them. It seemed toher a splendid thing these men were about to do, but she shrankfrom the thought that harm might come to them. She sometimes almostwished they had not thought of it, and that they had been contentto remain in the city, drilling with the town militia, and thinkingof the coming spring campaign. 

"We must take our chance, " answered Fritz, as he bent over her witha smile on one of those occasions. "You would not have us value ourlives above the safety of our distressed brethren or the honour ofour nation? The things which have happened here of late havetarnished England's fair name and fame. You would not have us holdback, if we can help to bring back the lustre of that name? I knowyou better than that. "

"I would have you do heroic deeds, " answered Susanna, withquickly-kindled enthusiasm, "only I would not have you lose yourlives in doing it. "

"We must take our chance of that, " answered Fritz, with a smile, "as other soldiers take theirs. But we shall be a strong and warycompany; and I have passed already unscathed through many perils. You will not forget us when we are gone, Susanna? I shall think ofyou sitting beside this comfortable hearth, when we are lying outbeneath the frosty stars, with the world lying white beneath us, wrapped in its winding sheet!"

"Ah, you will suffer such hardships! they all say that. "

There was a look of distress in the girl's eyes; but Fritz laughedaloud. 

"Hardship! what is hardship? I know not the name. We can track gamein the forest, and fish the rivers for it. We can make ourselvesfires of sparkling, crackling pine logs; we can slip along over iceand snow upon our snowshoes and skates, as I have heard themdescribed, albeit I myself shall have to learn the trick ofthem--for we had none such methods in my country, where the coldcould never get a grip of us. Fear not for us, Susanna; we shallfare well, and we shall do the work of men, I trow. I am wearyalready of the life of the city; I would go forth once more to myforest home. "

There was a sparkle almost like that of tears in the girl's eyes, and a little unconscious note as of reproach in her voice. 

"That is always the way with men; they would ever be doing anddaring. Would that I too were a man! there is naught in the worldfor a maid to do. "

"Say not so, " cried Fritz, taking the little hand and holding ittenderly between his own. "Life would be but a sorry thing for usmen were it not for the gentle maidens left at home to think of usand pray for us and welcome us back again. Say, Susanna, what sortof a welcome will you have for me, when I come to claim it after myduty is done?"

She raised her eyes to his, and the colour flooded her face. 

"I shall welcome you back with great gladness of heart, Fritz, andI shall pray for you every day whilst you are away. "

"And not forget me, even if other fine fellows of officers, such aswe begin to see in our streets now, come speaking fine words toyou, and seeking to win smiles from your bright eyes? You will keepa place in your heart still for the rough Ranger Fritz?"

Susanna's eyes lighted with something of mischievous amusement, andthen as she proceeded grew more grave and soft. 

"My good mother will take care that I have small converse with thegay young officers, Fritz. But in truth, even were it not so, Ishould never care for them, or think of them as I do of you. Youare facing perils they would not. You are brave with the bravery ofa true hero. It is with the Rangers of the forest that my heartwill go. Be sure you break it not, Fritz, by too rashly exposingyourself to peril. "

"Sweetheart!" was his softly-spoken answer; and Susanna went to herbed that night with a heart that beat high with a strange sweethappiness, although the cloud of coming parting lay heavy upon hersoul. 

A few days later, Humphrey and Julian, fully equipped withinstructions, introductions, money and other necessaries, left thecity, ready for their homeward voyage; and in another week thesmall but hardy band of Rangers, with their plain and meagreoutfit, but with stout hearts and brave resolves, said adieu tothose they left behind, and started westward for that debatableground upon which a bloody warfare had to be fought to the bitterend. 

Book 2: Roger's Rangers. 

Chapter 1: A Day Of Vengeance. 

To the west! to the west! to the west!

Such was the watchword of the band of sturdy Rangers who set forthfrom Pennsylvania to the defence of the hapless settlers. 

They were but a handful of bold spirits. It was little they couldhope to accomplish in attempting to stem the tide of war; but theirpresence brought comfort to many an aching heart, and nerved many alonely settler to intrench and defend his house and family, insteadof giving way to utter despair. 

There was work for the little band to do amongst these scatteredholdings. John Stark urged upon such settlers as had the courage toremain to build themselves block houses, to establish some sort ofcommunication with one another, to collect arms and ammunition, andbe ready to retire behind their defences and repel an attack. Forthe moment the Indians seemed glutted with spoil and with blood, and were more quiet, although this tranquillity was not to bereckoned upon for a day. Still, whilst it lasted it gave abreathing space to many harassed and desperate settlers; and Fritzcould give them many valuable hints as to the best method ofintrenching themselves in block houses. He had seen so many ofthese upon his long journey, and understood their constructionwell. 

Everywhere they found the people in a state of either deepdespondency or intense exasperation. It seemed to them that theyhad been basely deserted and betrayed by their countrymen, whoshould have been prompt to send to their defence; and although thearrival of the Rangers, and the news they brought of future help, did something to cheer and encourage them, it was easy to see thatthey were deeply hurt at the manner in which their appeals had beenmet, and were ready to curse the Quakers and the Assembly who hadcalmly let them be slaughtered like brute beasts, whilst theywrangled in peaceful security over some disputed point with theGovernor. 

"Are you Rogers' men?" was a question which the Rangers met againand again as they pursued their way. 

"No, " they would answer; "we know of no Rogers. Who is he, and whyis his name in all men's mouths?"

This question was not always easy to get answered. Some said onething and some another; but as they pursued their western way, theyreached a settlement where more precise information was to be had. 

"Have you not heard of Robert Rogers, the New Hampshire Ranger?Well, you will hear his name many times before this war is closed. He has gathered about him a band of bold and daring spirits. He haslived in the forest from boyhood. He has been used to dealings withboth English and French settlers. He speaks the language of both. But he is stanch to the heart's core. He is vowed to the service ofhis country. He moves through the forests, over the lakes, acrossthe rivers. None can say where he will next appear. He seemseverywhere--he spies upon the foe. He appears beneath the walls oftheir forts, snatches a sleepy sentry away from his post, andcarries him to the English camp, where information is thus gleanedof the doings of the enemy. He and his band are here, there, andeverywhere. We had hoped to have seen them here by this. ColonelArmstrong sent a message praying him to come and help him to attacka pestilent nest of savages which is the curse of his life. We hadhoped you were the forerunners of his band when you appeared. Butin these troublous times who can tell whether the messenger everreached his destination?"

"But if we are not Rogers' men, we are Rangers of the forest, "cried Stark, who was leader of the party. "We can fight; we aretrained to the exercise of arms. We will push on to this ColonelArmstrong, and what aid so small a band can give him that we willgive. "

"He will welcome any help from bold men willing to fight, " was theanswer they got. "Pray Heaven you be successful; for we all go interror of our lives from the cruelty of Captain Jacobs. If he wereslain, we might have rest awhile. "

"Captain Jacobs?"

"So they call him. He is a notable Indian chieftain. Most likelythe French baptized him by that name. They like to be called bysome name and title which sounds like that of a white man. He livesat the Indian town of Kittanning, on the banks of the Allegheny, and he is upheld by the French from Fort Duquesne and Venango. Theysupply him with the munitions of war, and he makes of our lives aterror. Colonel Armstrong has been sent by the Governor to try tofall upon him unawares, and oust him from his vantage ground. Ifthe town were but destroyed and he slain, we might know a littleease of mind. "

The eyes of the Rangers lighted with anticipation. This was thefirst they had heard of real warfare. If they could lend a hand tosuch an expedition as this, they would feel rewarded for all theirpains and toil. 

"Captain Jacobs, Captain Jacobs!" repeated Charles, with a gleam inhis sombre eyes; "tell me what manner of man this Captain Jacobsis. "

"I have seen him once--a giant in height, painted in vermilion, andcarrying always in his hand a mighty spear, which they say none buthe can wield. His eyes roll terribly, and upon his brow is astrange scar shaped like a crescent--"

"Ay, ay, ay; and in his hair is one white tuft, which he hasbraided with scarlet thread, " interposed Charles, panting andtwitching in his excitement. 

"That is the man--the most bloodthirsty fire eater of all theIndian chiefs. Could the country but be rid of him, we might sleepin our beds in peace once more, instead of lying shivering andshaking at every breath which passes over the forest at night. "

"Let us be gone!" cried Charles, shaking his knife in a meaning andmenacing fashion; "I thirst to be there when that man's record isclosed. Let me see his end; let me plunge my knife into his blackheart! There is another yet whom my vengeance must overtake; butlet me fall upon this one first. "

"Was he one of the attacking party that desolated your homestead?"asked Stark, as they moved along in the given direction, after abrief pause for rest and refreshment. 

"Ay, he was, " answered Charles grimly. "I could not forget thatgigantic form, that mighty spear, that scar and the white tuft! Hestood by, and laughed at my frantic struggles, at the screams ofthe children, at the agony of my gentle wife. A fiend from the pitcould not have been more cruel. But the hour is at hand when itshall be done to him as he has done. His hand lighted the wood pilethey had set against the door of the house. Let him suffer a likefate at our hands in the day of vengeance!"

Spurred on by the hope of striking some well-planted blow at theheart of the enemy, the hardy band of Rangers pushed their waythrough the forest tracks, scarcely pausing for rest or sleep, tillthe lights of a little camp and settlement twinkled before them inthe dusk, and they were hailed by the voice of a watchful sentinel. 

"Friends, " cried Stark, in clear tones--"Rangers of theforest--come to the aid of Colonel Armstrong, hoping to be in timefor the attack on Kittanning. "

"Now welcome, welcome!" cried the man, running joyfully forward;and the next minute the little band was borne into the camp by ajoyful company of raw soldiers, who seemed to feel a great sense ofsupport even from the arrival of a mere handful. 

"Rogers' Rangers are come! the Rangers are come!" was the wordeagerly passed from mouth to mouth; and before the newcomers couldmake any explanation, they found themselves pushed into afair-sized building, some thing in the form of a temporaryblockhouse, and confronted with the Colonel himself, who receivedthem with great goodwill. 

"You are from Captain Rogers?" he said; "is one of you that notableman himself?"

Stark stepped forward to act as spokesman, and was shaken warmly bythe hand. 

"Rangers we are, but not of Rogers' company, " he said. "Indeed, when we started forth from Philadelphia to the succour of thedistressed districts, we had not even heard the name of Rogers, though it is now familiar enough. 

"We heard, however, that you were in need of the help of Rangers, and we have come with all haste to your camp. We wish for nothingbetter than to stand in the forefront of the battle against thetreacherous and hostile Indians. Although not of Rogers' training, you will not find us faint of heart or feeble of limb. There are adozen of us, as you see, and we will fight with the best that wehave. "

"And right welcome at such a moment, " was the cordial answer, "forthe men I have with me are little trained to warfare; and thoughthey will follow when bravely led, they are somewhat like sheep, and are easily thrown into confusion or turned aside from the way. Tonight you shall rest and be well fed after your march, and on themorrow we will make a rapid secret march, and seek to fall upon thefoe unawares. "

The Rangers were as hungry as hunters, and glad enough to sit downonce more to a well-spread table. The rations were not luxurious asto quality, but there was sufficient quantity, which to hungry menis the great matter. The Colonel sat with them at table, heard allthey had to tell of the state of the country from Philadelphiawestward, and had many grim tales to tell himself of outrages andlosses in this district. 

"We lost Fort Granville at harvest time, when the men were forcedto garner their crops, and we had to send out soldiers to protectthem. The French and Indians set upon the Fort, and though it wasgallantly defended by the lieutenant in charge, it fell into theirhands. Since then their aggressions have been unbearable. CaptainJacobs has been making the lives of the settlers a terror to them. We have sent for help from the colony, with what success you know. We have sent to the Rangers under Rogers, and had hoped to bereinforced by them. 

"But if he cannot help us, it is much to have stout-hearted friendscome unexpectedly to our aid. Have you seen fighting, friends? orare you like the bulk of our men--inured to toil and hardship, fullof zeal and courage, ready to wield any and every weapon in defenceof property, or against the treacherous Indian?"

"Something like that, " answered Stark; "but we can all claim to begood marksmen, and to have good weapons with us. Our rifles carryfar, and we seldom miss the quarry. I will answer for us that westand firm, and that we come not behind your soldiers insteadiness, nor in the use of arms at close quarters. "

"That I can well believe, " answered the Colonel, with a smile; "Ihave but a score of men who have been trained in the school ofarms. The rest were but raw recruits a few months ago, and many ofthem have little love of fighting, though they seek to do theirduty. 

"Well, well, we must not sit up all night talking. We have a hardday's march before us tomorrow, and we must needs make all thespeed we can. Indian scouts might discover our camp at any moment, and our only chance is to fall upon the Indian town unawares. Theydo not look for attack in the winter months--that is our bestprotection from spies. And so far I think we have escaped notice. But it may not last, and we must be wary. We will sleep till dawn, but with the first of the daylight we must be moving. The way islong, but we have some good guides who know the best tracks. Weought to reach the town soon after nightfall; and when all aresleeping in fancied security, we will fall upon them. "

The Rangers were glad enough of the few hours of sleep which theywere able to obtain, and it was luxury to them to sleep beneath aroof, and to be served the next morning with breakfast which theyhad not had to kill and cook themselves. 

The men were in good spirits, too. The arrival of the little bodyof Rangers had encouraged them; and as the company marched throughthe forest, generally in single file, the newcomers scatteredthemselves amongst the larger body, and talked to them of what wasgoing forward in the eastern districts, and how, after long delay, reinforcements were being prepared to come to the aid of thehapless settlers. 

That was cheering news for all, and it put new heart into the band. They marched along cheerily, although cautiously, for they knew notwhat black scouts might be lurking in the thickets; and if theIndians once got wind of their coming, there would be little hopeof successful attack. 

On and on they marched all through the keen winter air, which gavethem fine appetites for their meals when they paused to rest andrefresh themselves, but made walking easier than when the sun beatdown pitilessly upon them in the summer. There had been no heavysnow as yet, and the track was not hard to find. But the way waslonger than had been anticipated, and night had long closed inbefore they caught a glimpse of any settlement, although they knewthey must be drawing near. 

The guides became perplexed in the darkness of the forest. The moonwas shining, but the light was dim and deceptive within the greatglades. Still they pushed on resolutely, and the Rangers graduallydrew to the front, goaded on by their own eagerness, and lessdisposed to feel fatigue than the soldiers, who were in realityless hardy than they. 

All in a moment a strange sound smote upon their ears. It was theroll of an Indian drum. They paused suddenly, and looked each otherin the face. The rolling sound continued, and then rose a sound ofwhooping and yelling such as some of their number had never heardbefore. 

"It is the war dance, " whispered one of the guides; and a thrillran through the whole company. Had they been discovered, and werethe Indians coming out in a body against them?

For a brief while they were halted just below the top of the ridge, whilst a few of the guides and Rangers crept cautiously forward toinspect the hollow in which they knew the village lay. 

Colonel Armstrong was one of this party, and he, with Stark andFritz, cautiously crept up over the ridge and looked down upon theIndian town below. 

The moon lighted up the whole scene. There was no appearance oftumult or excitement. The sound of the drum and the whooping of thewarriors were not accompanied by any demonstration of activity bythose within the community. Probably some war party or huntingparty had returned with spoil, and they were celebrating the eventby a banquet and a dance. 

The soldiers were bidden to move onward, but very cautiously. Itwas necessary that they should make the descent of the rugged pathbefore the moon set, and it was abundantly evident that the Indianshad at present no idea of the presence of the enemy. 

Slowly and cautiously the soldiers crept down the steep path, doingeverything possible to avoid a noise; but suddenly the sound of apeculiar whistle sounded from somewhere below, and there were amovement and a thrill of dismay through all the ranks; for surelyit was a signal of discovery!

Only Fritz was undismayed, and gave vent to a silent laugh. 

"That is not an alarm, " he whispered to the Colonel; "it is but ayoung chief signalling to some squaw. But the place is not asleepyet; if we go much nearer we shall be seen. Those bushes would giveus cover till all is quiet. We could crouch there and rest, andwhen the time has come spring out upon the village unawares. "

The Colonel approved the plan, and the weary men were glad enoughof the rest before the battle should begin. All were full of hopeand ardour; but in spite of that, most of them fell asleep crouchedin the cover. The surrounding hills kept off the wind, and it waswarm beneath the sheltering scrub. 

But Charles sat up with his hands clasped round his knees, his eyesintently fixed upon the Indian village. Beside him were a few ofhis chosen comrades amongst the Rangers--men older than the hardyyouths who had organized the band--settlers like himself, who hadsuffered losses like his own, and in whose hearts there burned asteady fire of vengeful hate that could only be quenched in blood. 

To them crept one of the guides who knew the district and the townof Kittanning. With him were his son and another hardy lad. Helooked at Charles and made a sign. The next moment some six oreight men were silently creeping through the sleeping soldiers, unnoticed even by the sharp eyes of the Colonel, who was stationedat some little distance. 

Like human snakes these men wriggled themselves down the tortuouspath, keeping always under cover of the bushes; and even when theopen ground below was reached, they slipped so silently alongbeneath the cover of the hedges that not an eye saw them, not eventhe sharp ears of the Indians heard their insidious approach. 

"Which is the house of Captain Jacobs?" asked Charles in a whisperof the guide. 

"It lies yonder, " he answered, "in the centre of the village. It isthe strongest building in the place, and has loopholes from which ahot fire can be poured out upon an approaching foe. The Indianshere have great stores of gunpowder and arms--given them by theFrench to keep up the border war. Unless we can take them bysurprise, we be all dead men; for they are as ten to one, and arearmed to the teeth. "

Charles's face in the moonlight was set and stern. 

"Here is a stack of wood, " he said. "Let every man take his fagot;but be silent as death. "

Plainly these men knew what they had come to do. In perfectsilence, yet with an exercise of considerable strength, they loadedthemselves with the dry brushwood, and split logs which the Indianshad cut and piled up ready for use either to burn or for thebuilding of their huts. Then, thus loaded, they crept like ghostsor ghouls through the sleeping street of the Indian town, and piledtheir burdens against the walls of the centre hut, which belongedto the chief. 

Twice and thrice was this thing repeated; but Charles remainedposted beside the door of the house, working in a strange andmysterious fashion at the entrance. Upon his face was a strange, set smile. Now and again he shook his clinched hand towards theheavens, as though invoking the aid or the wrath of the Deity. 

The bold little band were in imminent peril. One accidental slip orfall, an unguarded word, an involuntary cough, and the lives of thewhole party might pay the forfeit. They were in the heart of anIndian village, enemies and spies. But the good fortune which sooften attends upon some rash enterprise was with them tonight. Theycompleted their task, and drew away from the silent place asshadow-like as they had come. 

But they did not return to their comrades; they posted themselvesat a short distance from the place. They looked well to the primingof their rifles, and to their other arms, and sat in silence toawait the commencement of the battle. 

The moon set in golden radiance behind the wooded hills. In theeastern sky the first rose red showed that dawn would shortlybreak. Looking towards the hill, the little band saw that movementhad already begun there. They rose to their feet, and looked fromthe moving shapes amid the brushwood towards the still sleeping, silent town. 

"The Lord of hosts is with us, " spoke Charles, in a solemn voice;"He will deliver the enemy into our hands. Let us quit ourselveslike men and be strong. Let us do unto them even as they have done. Let not the wicked escape us. The Lord do so to me, and more also, if I reward not unto yon cruel chieftain his wickedness and hiscruelties. If he leave this place alive, let my life pay theforfeit!"

A murmur ran through the little group about him. Each man graspedhis weapon and stood still as a statue. This little company hadposted themselves upon a knoll which commanded the house of thebloodthirsty chief. It was their business to see that he at leastdid not escape from the day of vengeance. 

The moments seemed hours to those men waiting and watching; butthey did not wait in vain. 

A blaze of fire, a simultaneous crack of firearms, and a wild shoutthat was like one of already earned victory, and the assailantscame charging down the hillside, and across the open fields, firingvolley after volley upon the sleeping town, from which astonishedand bewildered savages came pouring out in a dense mass, only tofall writhing beneath the hail of bullets from the foe who hadsurprised them thus unawares. 

But there were in that community men trained in the arts of war, who were not to be scared into non-resistance by a suddenonslaught, however unexpected. These men occupied log houses aroundthat of their chieftain, and instead of rushing forth, theyremained behind their walls, and fired steadily back at the enemywith a rapidity and steadiness which evoked the admiration of theColonel himself. 

Fiercely rained the bullets from rank to rank. Indians yelled andwhooped; the squaws rushed screaming hither and thither; the fightwaxed hotter and yet more hot. But all unknown to the Indians, andunseen by them in the confusion and terror, a file of stern, determined men was stealing towards the very centre of their town, creeping along the ground so as to avoid notice, and be safe fromthe hail of shot, but ever drawing nearer and nearer to thatcentre, where the defence was so courageously maintained. 

Charles was the first to reach the log house against which thebrushwood had been piled. In the dim light of dawn his face couldbe seen wearing a look of concentrated purpose. He had latelypassed an open hut from whence the inhabitants had fled, and hecarried in his hand a smouldering firebrand. Now crouching againstthe place from which the hottest fire belched forth, he blew uponthis brand till a tongue of flame darted forth, and in a momentmore the brushwood around the house had begun to crackle with asound like that made by a hissing snake before it makes the fatalspring. 

Five minutes later and the ring of flame round the doomed house wascomplete. The firing suddenly ceased, and there was a sound ofblows and cries, turning to howls of fury as the inmates found thatthe door would not yield--that they were trapped. 

The Rangers, rushing up, seized burning brands and commencedsetting fire to house after house, whilst their comrades stood at ashort distance shooting down the Indians as they burst forth. Ascene of the wildest terror and confusion was now illumined by theglare of the fire, and at short intervals came the sound of short, sharp explosions, as the flames reached the charged guns of theIndians or the kegs of gunpowder lavishly stored in their houses. 

But Charles stood like a statue in the midst of the turmoil. Hisface was white and terrible; his gun was in his hands. He did notattempt to fire it, although Indians were scuttling past him likehunted hares; he stood stern and passive, biding his time. 

The ring of flame round the centre house rose higher and higher. Cries and screams were heard issuing from within. Some intrepidwarrior was chanting his death song, dauntless to the last. Afrightened squaw was shrieking aloud; but not even the sound of awoman's voice moved Charles from his fell purpose. 

Suddenly his, face changed; the light flashed into his eyes. Heraised his head, and he laid his gun to his shoulder. 

Out upon the roof of the cabin, ringed as it was with fire, theresprang a man of gigantic aspect, daubed and tattooed in vermilion, his hair braided in scarlet, and one white tuft conspicuous in theblack. He stood upon the roof, glaring wildly round him as ifmeditating a spring. Doubtless the smoke and fire shielded him insome sort from observation. Had not there been one relentless foevowed to his destruction, he might in all probability have leapedthe ring of flame and escaped with his life. 

But Charles had covered him with his gun. The chieftain saw thegleaming barrel, and paused irresolute. Charles's voice rose clearabove the surrounding din. 

"Murderer, tyrant, tormentor of helpless women and babes, the whiteman's God doth war against thee. The hour of thy death has come. Asthou hast done unto others, so shall it be done unto thee. "

Then the sharp report of the rifle sounded, and the chief boundedinto the air and fell back helpless. He was not dead--his yells ofrage and fear told that--but he was helpless. His thigh wasshattered. He lay upon the roof of the blazing cabin unable to movehand or foot, and Charles stood by like a grim sentinel till thefrail building collapsed into a burning mass; then with a fiercegesture he stirred the ashes with the butt of his rifle, sayingbeneath his breath:

"That is one of them!"

Victory for the white man was complete, notwithstanding that bandsof Indians from the other side of the river came rushing to thesuccour of their allies. They came too late, and were scattered anddispersed by the resolute fire of the English. The whole villagewas destroyed. Colonel Armstrong took as many arms and as muchammunition as his men could carry, and devoted the rest todestruction. 

More satisfactory still, they released from captivity elevenprisoners, white men with women and children, who had been carriedoff at different times when others had been massacred. From thesepersons they learned that the Indians of Kittanning had oftenboasted that they had in the place a stock of ammunition sufficientto keep up a ten years' war with the English along the borders. Tohave taken and destroyed all these stores was no small matter, andthe Colonel and his men rejoiced not a little over the blow thusstruck at the foe almost in his own land. 

But there was no chance of following up the victory. Armstrong wasnot strong enough to carry the war into the enemy's country;moreover, the winter was already upon them, although up till thepresent the season had been especially mild and open. He must marchhis men back to quarters, and provide for the safety of hiswounded, and for the restoration of the rescued prisoners to theirfriends. 

He would gladly have kept Stark and his little valiant band withhim, but the Rangers had different aims in view. 

"We must be up and doing; we must find fighting somewhere. On LakeGeorge we shall surely find work for men to do. Rangers of wood andforest care nothing for winter ice and snow. We will go northwardand eastward, asking news of Rogers and his Rangers. It may be thatwe shall fall in with them, and that we can make common cause withthem against the common foe. "

So said Stark, speaking for all his band, for all were of one heartand one mind. 

Therefore, after a few days for rest and refreshment, the littlearmy retreated whence it had come; whilst the bold band of Rangersstarted forth for the other scene of action, away towards thenorth, along the frozen lakes which formed one of the highways toCanada. 

Chapter 2: Robert Rogers. 

They met for the first time, face to face, amid a world of ice andsnow, upon the frozen surface of Lake George. 

Stark and his little band had been through strange experiences, andhad met with many adventures as they pursued their course towardsthe spot where they heard that the French and English were lyingencamped and intrenched, awaiting the arrival of spring beforecommencing the campaign afresh; and they now began to have aclearer notion of the situation between the two nations than theyhad hitherto had. 

They had spent a week in the quaint Dutch town of Albany, and therethey had heard many things with regard to the state of parties andthe affairs between the two nations. 

England and France were nominally at peace, or had been, evenwhilst these murderous onslaughts had been going on in the west. But it was evident to all that war must be shortly declared betweenthe countries, if it had not already been proclaimed. The scent ofbattle seemed in the very air. Nothing was talked of but the greatstruggle for supremacy in the west, which must shortly be foughtout to the bitter end. 

The aim of France was to connect Canada with Louisiana by a chainof forts, and keep the English penned up in their eastern provinceswithout room to expand. The northern links of this chain were FortTiconderoga, just where the waters of Lake George join those ofChamplain; Fort Niagara, which commanded the lakes; and FortDuquesne, at the head of the Ohio, the key to the greatMississippi. 

It was a gigantic scheme, and one full of ambition; there was oneimmense drawback. The French emigrants of the western worldnumbered only about one hundred and eighty thousand souls, whilstthe English colonies had their two millions of inhabitants. TheFrench could only accomplish their ends if the Indians would becomeand remain their allies. The English, though equally anxious tokeep on good terms with the dusky denizens of the woods, who couldbe such dangerous foes, had less need to use them in fight, as, ifthey chose to combine and act in concert, they could throw an armyinto the field which must overpower any the French could mass. 

But the weakness of the provinces hitherto had been this lack ofharmony. They would not act in concert. They were foreverdisputing, one province with another, and each at home with itsgovernor. The home ministry sent out men unfit for the work ofcommand. Military disasters followed one after the other. Washington and Braddock had both been overthrown in successiveattempts upon Fort Duquesne; and now the English Fort of Oswego, their outpost at Lake Ontario, was lost through mismanagement andbad generalship. 

Canada owned a centralized government. She could send out her menby the various routes to the points of vantage where the strugglelay. England had an enormous border to protect, and no one centreof operations to work from. She was hampered at every turn byinternal jealousies, and by incompetent commanders. Braddock hadbeen a good soldier, but he could not understand forest fighting, and had raged against the Virginian men, who were doing excellentwork firing at the Indians from behind trees, and meeting theirtactics by like ones. Braddock had driven them into rank by beatingthem with the flat of his sword, only to see them shot down likesheep. Blunders such as this had marked the whole course of thewar; and misfortune after misfortune had attended the English armsupon the mainland, although in Acadia they had been moresuccessful. 

These things Stark and his little band heard from the Dutch ofAlbany; they also heard that the English were encamped at thesouthern end of Lake George, at Forts Edward and William Henry, their commander being John Winslow, whose name was becoming knownand respected as that of a brave and humane soldier, who hadcarried through a difficult piece of business in Acadia with asmuch consideration and kindliness as possible. 

Now he was in command of the English force watching the movementsof the French at Ticonderoga; here also were Rogers and his Rangersto be found. They had marched into Winslow's camp, it was said, some few months earlier, proffering their services; and there theyhad since remained, scouting up and down the lake upon skates orsnowshoes, snatching away prisoners from the Indian allies, or fromthe very walls of the fort itself, and intercepting provisions sentdown Lake Champlain for the use of the French. 

Details of these escapades on the part of the Rangers were notknown in Albany; but rumours of Rogers' intrepidity reached themfrom time to time, and Stark and his band were fired anew by thedesire to join themselves to this bold leader, and to assist him inhis task of harassing the enemy, and bringing assistance of allsorts into the English camp. 

Bidding adieu to the Dutch, who had received them kindly, and nowsent them away with a sufficiency of provisions to last themseveral days, they skimmed away still to the northward on theirsnowshoes. They had taken directions as to what route to pursue inorder to reach Fort Edward, and thence to pass on to Fort WilliamHenry; but the heavy snowfall obliterated landmarks, and theypresently came to the conclusion that they had missed the way, andhad travelled too far north already. 

"Then we must keep in a westerly direction, " quoth Stark, as theysat in council together over their fire at night; "we cannot failthus to strike the lake at last, and that, if frozen hard, can beour highway. At the southern end is the fort William Henry; at thenorthern outlet is the French fort with the name of Ticonderoga. "

This deflection in direction being agreed to, the party lay down tosleep--Charles Angell offering to act as sentry, as he frequentlydid. 

Since the tragedy which had wrecked his life, Charles had seldombeen able to sleep quietly at night. He was haunted by horribledreams, and the thought of sleep was repugnant to him. He wouldoften drop asleep at odd hours over the campfire whilst hiscomrades were discussing and planning, and they would let him sleepin peace at such times; but at night he was alert and wide awake, and they were glad enough to give him his request, and let him keepwatch whilst they rested and slumbered. 

The silence of the snow-girt forest was profound; yet Charles wasrestless tonight, and kept pausing to listen with an odd intensityof expression. His faculties, both of sight and hearing, had becomepreternaturally acute of late. More than once this gift of his hadsaved the party from falling amongst a nest of hostile Indians;tonight it was to prove of service in another way. 

In the dead of night the Rangers were awakened by a trumpet-likecall. 

"To arms, friends, to arms! The Indians are abroad; they areattacking our brothers! I hear the shouts of battle. We must totheir rescue! Let us not delay! To arms, and follow me; I will leadyou thither!"

In a second the camp was astir. The men lay down in their clothes, wrapping a buffalo robe about them for warmth. In a few seconds allwere aroused, strapping their blankets upon their shoulders andseizing their weapons. 

"What have you heard, Charles, and where?" asked Stark and Fritz ina breath as they ran up. 

"Yonder, yonder!" cried Charles, pointing in a northwesterlydirection; "it is a fight on the ice. It is not far away. TheIndians are attacking white men--English men. I hear their criesand their shoutings. Hark--there is shooting, too! Come, follow me, and I will take you there. There is work for the Rangers tonight!"

Yes, it was true. They could all hear the sound of shots. What hadgone before had only reached the ears of Charles; but the report offirearms carried far. In three minutes the bold little company hadstarted at a brisk run through the snow-covered forest, gettingquickly into the long swing of their snowshoes, and skimming overthe ground at an inconceivably rapid pace, considering the natureof the ground traversed. 

All at once the forest opened before them. They came out upon itsfarthest fringe; and below them lay, white and bare, and sparklingin the moonlight, the frozen, snow-laden plateau of the lake. 

It was a weirdly beautiful scene which lay spread like a panoramabefore them in the winter moonlight; but they had no time to thinkof that now. All eyes were fixed upon the stirring scene enacted inthe middle of the lake, or at least well out upon its frozensurface, where a band of resolute men, sheltering themselves behinda few sledges, which made them a sort of rampart, were firingsteadily, volley after volley, at a band of leaping, yellingIndians who had partially surrounded them, and who were slowly butsteadily advancing, despite their heavy loss, returning the fire ofthe defendants, though by no means so steadily and regularly, andwhooping and yelling with a fearful ferocity. 

It was easy to see, even by the moonlight alone, that the menbehind the sledges were white men. A sudden enthusiasm andexcitement possessed our little band of Rangers as this sight burstupon them, and Stark gave the instant word:

"Steady, men, but lose not a moment. Form two lines, and rush themfrom behind. Reserve your fire till I give the word. Then let themhave it hot, and close upon them from behind. When they findthemselves between two fires, they will think themselves trapped. They will scatter like hunted hares. See, they have no notion ofany foe save the one in front. Keep beneath the shadow of theforest till the last moment, and then rush them and fire!"

The men nodded, and unslung their guns. They made no noise glidingdown the steep snow bank upon their long shoes, and then out uponthe ice of the lake. 

"Fire!" exclaimed Stark at the right moment; and as one man theRangers halted, and each picked his man. 

Crack-crack-crack!

Literally each bullet told. Twelve dusky savages bounded into theair, and fell dead upon the blood-stained snow. 

Crack-crack-crack!

The affrighted Indians had faced round only to meet another volleyfrom the intrepid little band behind. 

That was enough. The prowess of the Rangers was well known from oneend of the lake to the other. To be hemmed in between two companieswas more than Indian bravery or Indian stoicism could stand. Withyells of terror they dropped their arms and fled to the forest, followed by a fierce firing from both parties, which made greathavoc in their ranks. The rout was complete and instantaneous. Hadit not been for panic, they might have paused to note how few werethose new foes in number, and how small even the united body was ascompared with their own numbers; but they fled, as Stark hadforetold, like hunted hares, and the white men were left upon thelake face to face, with dead and dying Indians around them. 

An enormously tall man leaped up from behind the rampart ofsledges, and came forward with outstretched hand. He was a man ofmagnificent physique, with a mass of wild, tangled hair and beard, and black eyes which seemed to burn like live coals. His featureswere rugged and rather handsome, and his nose was of very largeproportions. 

Stark took a step forward and shook the outstretched hand. He knewthis man, from descriptions received of him during their months ofwandering. 

"You are Captain Rogers?"

"Robert Rogers, of the Rangers, at your service, " replied theother, in a deep, sonorous voice, which seemed to match his size;"and this is my brother Richard, " as another fine-looking manapproached and held out his hand to their deliverers. "And rightglad are we to welcome such bold spirits amongst us, though who youare and whence you come we know not. You have saved us from perilof death tonight, and Rogers never forgets a service like that. "

"We have come from far to seek you, " answered Stark; "we ourselvesare Rangers of the forest. We fear neither heat nor cold, peril, hardship, nor foe. We long to fight our country's battle againstthe Indian savages and against the encroaching French. It has beentold us again and again that Rogers is the captain for us, and toRogers we have come. "

"And right welcome are all such bold spirits in Rogers' camp!" wasthe quick reply. "That is the spirit of the true Ranger. Nor shallyou be disappointed in your desire after peril and adventure. Youcan see by tonight's experience the sort of adventure into which weare constantly running. We scouts of the lake have to watchourselves against whole hordes of wily, savage Indian scouts andspies. Some of our number are killed and cut off with eachencounter; and yet we live and thrive and prosper. And if you askhonest John Winslow who are those who help him most during thisseason of weary waiting, I trow he will tell you it is Rogers andhis bold Rangers. "

By this time the whole band of Rangers had gathered round Stark'slittle company, and the men were all talking together. In thosewild lands ceremony is unknown; friendships are quickly made, ifquickly sundered by the chances and changes of a life of adventureand change; and soon the band felt as if one common spirit inspiredthem. 

There were three wounded men in Rogers' company; they were put upona sledge and well covered up. Then the party moved along to aposition at some distance from that where they had met the attack. 

"The Indians will come back to find and remove their dead, "explained Rogers. "It is better to be gone. We will encamp andbivouac a little farther away. Then we will hold a council as toour next move. They will not be in haste to molest us again. "

The plan was carried out. The hardy Rangers hollowed out asheltered nook in the snow, threw up a wall of protection againstthe wind, lighted a fire, and sat round it discussing the events ofthe night, and exchanging amenities with their new comrades. 

The two Rogerses, together with Stark, Fritz, and the silent, watchful Charles, gathered in a knot a little apart, and Rogerslaid before them, in a few brief speeches, the situation of affairsupon the lake. 

Lake Champlain, the more northern and the larger of the twin lakes, was altogether guarded by the French. St. John stood at its head, and Crown Point guarded it lower down--being a great fortifiedpromontory, where the lake narrowed to a very small passage, widening out again below, till it reached the other strong fort andcolony of Ticonderoga, where Lake George formed a junction with it, though the lake itself still ran an independent course to thesouth, parallel with Lake George, being fed by the waters of WoodCreek, a narrow, river-like inlet, which was a second waterway intothe larger lake. 

The position of Ticonderoga was, therefore, very important, as itcommanded both these waterways; and even if the English couldsucceed in avoiding the guns of that fort, there was still CrownPoint, further to the north, to keep them from advancing. 

In addition to these advantages, the French had won the localIndians to their side; and though they did much towardsembarrassing their white allies, and were a perfect nuisance bothto officers and men, they were too useful to risk offending or tobe dispensed with, as they were always ready for a dash upon anyEnglish scouting parties, and formed a sort of balance to thetactics of the English Rangers. 

"They are villainous foes!" said Rogers, with a dark scowl. "It istheir great joy to take prisoners; and when the French haveextracted from them all the information they can as to the strengthand prospects of the English, the Indians will claim them again, toscalp and burn, and the French scarcely raise a protest. It is saidthat they speak with disgust of the barbarities of these savageallies, but they do little or nothing to check them. That is why mywrath often rises higher against the French than against theIndians themselves. They know no better; but for white man todeliver white man into their hands--that is what makes my bloodboil!"

The fire leaped up in Charles's eyes, and he had his tale to tell, at hearing of which the Rogerses set their teeth and mutteredcurses not loud but deep. 

"Now will I tell you what we started forth to do, " said the leaderof the band. "We have been busy all winter. Last month we skateddown the lake when it was clear of snow, passed Ticonderoga allunseen, intercepted some sledges of provisions, and carried themand their drivers to our fort. Now we are bent upon a longerjourney. We want to reach Crown Point, and make a plan of the worksfor our brave Commander Winslow. We were a part of the way on ourroute, when we fell in with Indians conveying provisions to theFrench on these sledges. We took them from them and dispersed thecrew; but they must have scattered and got help, and they set uponus, as you have seen. Now that we have three wounded and twosomewhat bruised and shaken, I am thinking it would be better tosend them back, with a few sound men as escort--for the provisionswill be welcome at the fort, which is not too well victualled--whilstthe rest of us push on, and see if we can accomplish our errand. Nowthat we are thus reinforced, we shall be strong enough to do this. "

The eyes of Stark and Fritz sparkled at the prospect. 

"We will go with you, " they cried. "We long for such work as this;it is what we have come for from our homes and friends. "

And then Stark added modestly:

"And if I am but little trained to arms, I can draw. I have beenused to that work in my old life, which was too tame for me. Iunderstand how to make plans and elevations. If I could but get agood view of the fortifications, I will undertake to make a gooddrawing of them for your general. "

Rogers slapped him heartily upon the back. 

"A draughtsman is the very fellow we want, " he cried; "and adraughtsman who can wield weapons as you can, John Stark, is thevery man for us. You and your band will be right welcome. You canall use snowshoes, I see, and doubtless skates also?"

Stark nodded. By that time all were proficient in these arts, evenFritz, to whom they had been new at the commencement of the winter. Charles fingered the knife at his belt, and his cavern-like eyesglowed in their sockets. 

"Let me fight the French-the French!" he muttered. "I have avengedmyself upon the Indian foe. Now let me know the joy of meeting thewhite foe face to face!"

"Is that poor fellow mad?" asked Rogers of Fritz, when nextmorning, all preparations being speedily made, the party haddivided, and the larger contingent was sweeping down the laketowards the distant junction, which was guarded by the guns ofTiconderoga. 

"I think his brain is touched. He has been like that ever since Ihave known him; but his brother and friends say that once he wasthe most gentle and peaceful of men, and never desired to raisehand against his fellow. It is the horror of one awful memory thathas made him what he is. I thought perhaps that when he wreaked hisvengeance upon the Indian chieftain who had slain his wife andchildren, he would have been satisfied; but the fire in his heartseems unquenched and unquenchable. Sometimes I have a fancy thatwhen his wrath is satisfied the spring of life will cease withinhim. He grows more gaunt and thin each week; but he is borne alongby the strong spirit within, and in battle his strength is as thestrength of ten. "

"As is ofttimes the way with men whose minds are unhinged, " saidRogers. "Truly we have small reason to love our white brothers theFrench, since at their door lies the sin of these ravages upon thehapless border settlers. We will requite them even as they deserve!We will smite them hip and thigh! though we must not, and will not, become like the savage Indians. We will not suffer outrage; itshall be enough of shame and humiliation for them to see the flagof England flaunting proudly where their banners have been wont tofly. "

A few days of rather laborious travel--for the snow was soft--andCrown Point lay before them. They had left the lake some timebefore, skirting round Roger's Rock, and thus making a cut acrosscountry, and missing the perils of passing Ticonderoga. 

"We will take that in returning, " said Rogers; "but we will notrisk being seen on our way down, else they might be upon the alertfor our return. We will arrange a pleasant surprise for them. "

The way was laborious now, for they had to climb hills which gavethem a good view over the fortifications of Crown Point; but thiselevation once safely attained, without any further molestationfrom Indians, they were able to make a complete survey of thefortifications; and Stark made some excellent plans and drawings, which gave a fine idea of the place. 

So far all had been peaceful; but the Rangers were not wont to comeand go and leave no trace. There were outlying farms around thefortifications, and comings and goings between the French soldiersand peasants. 

"We will stop these supplies, " said Rogers, with a sardonic smile;"the French shall learn to be as careful of their flour as we haveto be!"

And carefully laying an ambush in the early grey of a winter'smorning, he sprang suddenly out upon a train of wagons wendingtheir way to the fortifications. 

The drivers, scared and terrified, jumped from their places, andran screaming into the defences, whence soldiers came rushing out, sword in hand, but only to find the wagons in flames, the horsesdriven off to the forest, and the barns and farmsteads behindburning. 

It was a savage sort of warfare, but it was the work of the Rangersto repay ferocity in kind, and to leave behind them dread tokens ofthe visits they paid. 

Whilst the terrified inhabitants and the angry soldiers werestriving to extinguish the flames, and vituperating Rogers and hiscompany, these bold Rangers themselves were fleeing down the lakeas fast as snowshoes could take them, full of satisfaction at thehavoc they had wrought, and intent upon leaving their mark atTiconderoga before they passed on to Fort William Henry. 

Guarded as it was by fortifications and surrounded by Indian spies, Rogers and his men approached it cautiously, yet without fear; forthey knew every inch of the ground, and they were so expert in allwoodcraft and strategic arts that they could lie hidden inbrushwood within speaking distance of the foe, yet not betray theirpresence by so much as the crackle of a twig. 

It was night when they neared the silent fort. A dying moon gavefaint light. The advancing party glided like ghosts along theopposite bank. A sentry here and there tramped steadily. TheRangers could hear the exchange of salute and the rattle of agrounded musket. But no sign did they make of their presence. Theykept close in the black shadow, and halted in a cavern-like spotwell known to them from intimate acquaintance. 

Richard Rogers had been sent scouting by his brother, and came inwith news. 

"There will be marching on the morrow. Some soldiers will leave thefort for the nearest camp; I could not gather how many, but therewill be some marching through the forest. If we post ourselves nearto the road by which they will pass, we may do some havoc ere theyknow our whereabouts. "

This was work entirely to the liking of the Rangers. Before dawnthey were posted in their ambush, and allowed themselves a fewhours of repose, but lighted no fire. They must not draw attentionto themselves. 

They were awake and astir with the first light of the tardy dawn, eagerly listening whilst they looked to the priming of their arms, and exchanged whispered prognostications. 

Then came the expected sound--the tramp, tramp, tramp of a numberof men on the march. 

"Hist!" whispered Rogers, "lie low, and reserve your fire. Thesesound too many for us. "

The men kept watch, and saw the soldiers file by. There were closeupon two hundred. It would have been madness to attack them, andthe Rangers looked at one another in disappointment. 

"Cheer up! there may be more to come, " suggested Rogers; and beforeanother hour had passed, their listening ears were rewarded by thesound of a bugle call, and in a few minutes more the trampling offeet was heard once again, and this time the sound was less andmore irregular. 

"Some stragglers kept behind for something, seeking to catch up themain body, " spoke Rogers in a whisper. "Be ready, men; mark eachhis foe, and then out upon them, and take prisoners if you can. "

The taking of prisoners was most important. It was from them thateach side learned what was being done by the various commanders. Aprisoner was valuable booty to return with to the fort. Rogersseldom went forth upon any important expedition without returningwith one or more. 

The men swung by carelessly, laughing and talking. They had suchfaith in their Indian scouts that they never thought of an ambushedfoe. 

The ping of the rifles in their rear caused a strange panic amongstthem. They faced round to see the redoubtable Rogers spring out atthe head of a compact body of men. 

But the strangest thing in that strange attack was a wild, unearthly yell which suddenly broke from one of the Rangers. 

It was like nothing human; it was like the fierce roar of someterrible wild beast. Even Rogers himself was startled for themoment, and looked back to see from whence it had come. 

At that moment Charles Angell dashed forward in a frantic manner. He had flung his gun from him; his eyeballs were fixed and staring;there was foam upon his lips; his hair was streaming in the wind. He bore an aspect so strange and fearful that the French utteredyells of terror, and fled helter-skelter from the onslaught. 

But if any had had eyes to note it, there was one Frenchman whoseface became ashy white as he met the rolling gaze of thoseterrible, bloodshot eyes. He too flung away his gun, and uttered afrantic yell of terror, plunging headlong into the wood without athought save flight. 

"It is he! it is he! it is he!"

This was the shout which rang from the lips of Charles as he dashedafter the retreating figure. All was confusion now amid French andRangers alike; that awful yell, and something in the appearance ofCharles, had startled friend and foe alike. 

There were several of the French soldiers left dead in the wood, and one was captured and made prisoner; but the rest had fled likemen demented, and the Rangers could not come up with them. As forCharles and his quarry, they had disappeared, and it was longbefore any trace could be found of them. 

Stark and Fritz, however, would not give up the search, and at lastthey came upon the prostrate form of Charles. He lay face downwardson the frozen ground, which was deeply stained with blood. Hiswrist was fearfully gashed by some knife; yet in his fingers heheld still a piece of cloth from the coat of the French fugitive. It had been literally torn out of his grasp before the man couldget free, and he had nearly hacked off the left hand of the haplessCharles. 

Yet the man had made good his escape, leaving Charles well nighdead from loss of blood. But they carried him tenderly back totheir cave, and making a rough sledge for him; then brought himsafely with their prisoner into the camp at Fort William Henry. 

Chapter 3: The Life Of Adventure. 

"I have seen him once, and he has escaped me. But we shall meetagain, and then the hour of vengeance will have come!"

This was the burden of Charles's words as he lay in his narrowquarters in the Rangers' huts just without Fort William Henry, tended by his comrades till his wound healed. The fever which sooften follows upon loss of blood had him in its grip for awhile, and he would lie and mutter for hours in a state of semi-delirium. 

The sympathy of his comrades for this strange man with the tragicstory was deep and widespread. Charles had become a favourite andan object of interest throughout the ranks of the Rangers, andgreat excitement prevailed when it was understood that he hadreally seen the man--the Frenchman--who had stood by to see hiswife and family massacred, and had deliberately designed to leavehim, cruelly pinioned, to die a lingering death of agony in theheart of the lonely forest. 

Every day he had visitors to his sickbed, and again and again hetold the tale, described his foe, and told how he knew that the manrecognized him, first taking him--or so he believed--for a spectrefrom the tomb, afterwards filled with the most lively terror as herealized that he was pursued by one who had such dire cause forbitter vengeance. 

"We have met twice!" Charles would say, between his shut teeth. "Once I was at his mercy, and he showed none. The second time hefled before me as a man flees from death and hell. The third timewe meet--and meet we shall--it will be that the Lord has deliveredhim into my hand. I will strike, and spare not. It will be the hourappointed of Heaven!"

With the lengthening days and the approach of spring the life ofthe Rangers became less full of hardship, though not less full ofadventure. Snowshoes and skates were laid aside, and the menstarted to construct boats and canoes in which they soon began toskim the surface of the lake; scouting here, there, and all over, and bringing back news of the enemy's movements and strength evenwhen no capture of prisoners rewarded their efforts. 

Rogers had taken a great liking to John Stark and his followers. Hedubbed Stark his lieutenant, and Fritz and Stark were inseparablecompanions by this time. Charles attached himself to no person inparticular, but was the friend of all; pitied and respected for hismisfortunes, allowed to come and go much as he would; regardedrather as one set aside by Heaven for an instrument of vengeance;standing alone, as it were, not quite like any of his comrades; adreamy, solitary creature, seldom talking much, often passing thewhole day in silent brooding; yet when there was fighting to bedone, waking up to a sort of Berserker fury, dealing blows with analmost superhuman strength, and invariably filling the hearts ofhis adversaries with a species of superstitious fear and dread. 

For the tall, gaunt figure with the haggard face, flaming eyes, andwildly-floating locks bore so weird an aspect that a man might bepardoned for regarding it as an apparition. Not a particle ofcolour remained in Charles's face. The flesh had shrunk away tillthe bones stood out almost like skin stretched over a skull. Thehair, too, was white as snow, whilst the brows were coal black, enhancing the effect of the luminous, fiery eyes beneath. It wassmall wonder that Charles was regarded by Rangers and soldiersalike as a thing apart. He came and went as he would, no maninterfering or asking him questions. 

At the same time he seemed to regard Fritz and Stark as his chieffriends; and if they started forth with any of the Rangers, it wasgenerally observed that Charles would be of the company. 

The life of the forest was pleasant enough in the warmer weather;but the garrison at the fort were anxious to know what orders theywould receive for the summer campaign, and so far nothing was heardbut that they were to remain on the defensive. This might beprudent, seeing that Ticonderoga was< strongly fortified andgarrisoned; but it pleased neither soldiers nor officers, and theRangers went scouting more and more eagerly, hoping to learn newswhich might tempt those in authority to sanction some more overtmovement. 

One day a strange adventure befell the Rangers. Rogers and hislittle flotilla of boats were here, there, and everywhere upon thelake. Not only did they move up and down Lake George, which wasdebatable ground, commanded at the different ends by a French andEnglish fort, but they carried boats across a mountain gorge to theeastward, launched them again in South Bay, and rowed down thenarrow prolongation of Lake Champlain, and under cover of darknights would glide with muffled oars beneath the very guns ofTiconderoga, within hearing of the sentries' challenge to eachother, and so on to Crown Point, whence they could watch themovements of the enemy, and see their transports passing to and frowith provisions for Ticonderoga. 

Many a small boat was seized, many a large one sunk by these hardyRangers of the forest. They were as wily as Indians, and as suddenand secret in their movements. The French regarded them with aspecies of awe and fear. They would sometimes find an English boator canoe in some spot perfectly inexplicable to them. They couldnot believe that anyone could pass the fortifications ofTiconderoga unseen and unheard, and would start the wildesthypotheses to account for the phenomenon, even to believing thatsome waterway existed which was unknown alike to them and theirIndian scouts. 

But to return to the adventure to which allusion has been made. 

Rogers with some thirty of his Rangers was out upon one of thosedaring adventures. They were encamped within a mile of Ticonderoga. Their boats were lying in a little wooded creek which gave accessto the lake. Some of the party, headed by Rogers, had gone ontowards Crown Point by night. Stark, with a handful of trusty men, lay in hiding, watching the movements from the fort, and keeping awary eye upon those who came and went, ready to pounce out upon anystraggler who should adventure himself unawares into the forest, and carry him off captive to the English camp. 

Certain tidings as to the course the campaign was likely to takewere urgently wanted by this time. The posts to the English fortbrought in no news save that it was thought better for the army onthe western frontier to remain upon the defensive, and no talk ofsending large reinforcements came to cheer or encourage them. Winslow was impatient and resentful. He thought there weremismanagement and lack of energy. He knew that the provinces hadbeen roused at last out of their lethargy, and had pledgedthemselves to some active effort to check French aggression; yetweeks were slipping by, one after the other, and no help of anyconsequence came to the army on the outskirts. No command reachedthe eager soldiers for a blow to be struck there, as had beenconfidently expected. 

Perhaps the French might be better informed as to what was going onin other parts of the great continent, and so prisoners were wantedmore urgently than ever. 

At midday upon a steamy midsummer day, one of the young Rangers whohad been wandering about near to the camp in search of game cameback with cautious haste to report that he had seen a small partyof French leaving the fort by the water gate, cross the narrowwaterway, and plunge into the forest. He had observed the directiontaken, and thought they could easily surround and cut them off. Hedid not think there were more than six in the party; probably theywere out hunting, unconscious of the proximity of any foe. 

Stark was on his feet in a second. This was just the chance for theRangers. Seizing their arms and hastily conferring together, theylaid their plans, and then divided themselves into three companiesof three, planning to fetch a circuit, keep under cover, and thussurround the little company, who would believe themselves entirelyovermatched, and some of whom would surrender at discretion, ifthey did not all do so. 

Stark, Fritz, and Charles remained together, taking a certain pathas agreed upon. They crept like Indians through the wood. Hardlythe breaking of a branch betrayed their movements. In Charles'seyes the slumbering fire leaped into life. He always lived in thehope of again meeting his foe face to face. He knew that he wasprobably within the walls of Ticonderoga. Any day might bring themface to face once more. 

Softly and cautiously they crept through the brushwood. Stark hadmade a sign of extra caution, for some nameless instinct seemed tohave told him that they were near the quarry now. He paused amoment, held up his hand as if in warning; and at that instantthere suddenly arose from the heart of the wood the unwonted soundof a sweet, fresh girl's voice raised in a little French song!

The men looked at one another in amaze. Were their ears deceivingthem? But no; the trilling notes came nearer. Involuntarily theypressed forward a few paces, and then came to a dead stop. What wasit they saw?

A maiden, a young girl of perhaps seventeen summers, her hatsuspended by a broad ribbon from her arm, and half filled withflowers, was wandering through the woodland tracks as quietly asthough in her sheltered home across the water. As she moved shesang snatches of song in a clear, bird-like voice; and when hereyes suddenly fell upon the three strange figures in the path, there was no fear in their violet depths, only a sort of startledbewilderment, instantly followed by an eagerness that there was nomistaking. 

"Oh, " she exclaimed eagerly, in accents which denoted almostunmixed pleasure, and speaking English with only a very slightintonation denoting her mixed nationality, "I am sure that I havemy wish at last! You are Rogers' Rangers!"

Stark and Fritz had doffed their hats in a moment. They were morenonplussed a great deal than this fearless maiden, who looked likethe goddess of the glade, secure in her right of possession. Hereyes were dancing with glee; her mouth had curved to a delicioussmile of triumph. 

"I have been longing to see the Rangers ever since I arrived atTiconderoga; but they declared they were terrible fire-eating men, worse than the wild Indians, and that they would kill me if Iadventured myself near to them--kill me or carry me away captive. But I said 'No!'" (and the girl threw back her head in a gesture ofpride and scorn); "I said that the Rangers were Englishmen--Englishgentlemen, many of them--and that they did not war with women! Iwas not afraid; I knew they would not lay a finger upon me. 

"I am not wrong, am I, sirs? You would not hurt a maiden who trustsyour chivalry and honour?"

"I would slay the first man who dared so much as to lay a fingerupon you, lady, " answered Stark impetuously, "even though he weremy own comrade or brother! We are Rogers' Rangers, as you haverightly guessed; and we are here scouting round Fort Ticonderoga, ready to intercept its inmates when we may catch them. But you areright: we war not with women; we fight with men who can fight usback. 

"But tell us, fair lady, how comes it that you are here alone inthe forest? It is scarce safe in these troubled times of warfare, with Indians all around, and rude soldiers prowling the woods andlurking in its fastnesses. "

"Ah, but my escort is close at hand. I did but stray away a littlein search of flowers. They said the forest was free from periltoday. The Indians have gone off yonder on some enterprise of theirown, and the English are lying within their lines far enough away. I begged and prayed, and at last they gave way. My brother and themen are after a fine young deer they sighted. I bid them leave me. I was not afraid. I thought the worst that could happen would bethat I came face to face with a party of Rangers, and that wasexactly what I have longed to do ever since I arrived. "

The girl looked up smiling into the faces of the bronzed, stalwartmen standing before her; then she seated herself upon a fallen treeand motioned them to be seated likewise. 

"I want to talk, " she said; "let us sit down and be sociable. Idaresay they will be some time in killing their quarry. We willenjoy ourselves till they come back. They shall not hurt you; Iwill ensure that. "

Stark smiled a little at the girl's assurance. 

"More likely they may suffer at our hands, lady. There are more ofus scattered about the forest. But our aim is not to slay, but toobtain prisoners who shall give us news; so you need not fear thatharm will befall your brother--least of all if he speaks theEnglish tongue as you do. If I might make bold to ask you ofyourself, how comes it that an English girl is in such a wild spotas this, and amid the soldiers of France?"

"I am not English, " answered the maiden, with a smile; "I am Frenchupon my father's side, and my mother was a Scotchwoman. I havelived in Scotland, where I learned your tongue; and I always spokeit with my mother so long as she lived. It is as easy to me as myfather's French. "

"And how come you to this wild spot in the heart of these forests, and with warfare all around?"

"I will tell you that, too. My father has always been a man ofaction, who has loved travel and adventure. Since the outbreak ofthis war in the west he has longed to be in the midst of it. He issomething of a soldier, and something of a statesman, and he is thefriend of many great ones at Court, and has been entrusted beforenow with missions requiring skill and tact. He is also the kinsmanof the Marquis of Montcalm, whose name no doubt you know by thistime. "

"He is the new military commander sent out by the King of France, to take the lead in the war now commenced in Canada and along theborder between France and England, " answered Stark promptly. 

"Yes; and my father and uncle came out with him, and my brother andI also. My uncle is the good Abbe Messonnier; but you will not haveheard of him, though he is well known and well beloved in France. My father has certain work to do here the nature of which I do notfully know, nor could I divulge if I did. We arrived at Quebec ashort time ago, and thence we moved on to Montreal. But it wasneedful for my father and uncle to visit some of these outposts, and we begged, Colin and I, not to be left behind. We burned withcuriosity to see the strange sights of which we had heard--theIndians in their war paint, the great forests and lakes, the fortsand their garrisons, and all the wonders of the west. 

"So they brought us in their company. My father takes me everywherewith him that he can. Since my mother's death he seems unable tolose sight of me. We have been hard upon a month at the fort now. We are learning all we can of the condition of affairs, to reportto the Marquis when we return to Montreal or to Quebec. He himselftalks of coming to command here when the time comes for the attackto be made upon your fort; but that will scarcely be yet, for thereis so much he has to set in order in Canada. Oh, the way things aremanaged there--it is a disgrace!"

"Is Canada weak then?" asked Stark, burning with curiosity forinformation on the subject. 

The girl slowly shook her head. 

"Perhaps I ought not to talk with you, since you are the enemies ofmy countrymen. And, in sooth, I know little enough to tell. I hearone say this and one the other, and I cannot know where the truthlies. But of one thing they are very certain and confident--thatthey will drive out the English from all these western outposts, and will keep them shut in between the mountains and the sea; andthat France alone shall rule this mighty continent of giant forestsand rivers, undisturbed by any foreign foe. Of that all men areconfident. "

The Rangers exchanged glances, and the girl saw it. 

"You do not believe me, " she said quickly; "but, indeed, I haveheard so many strange things that I know not what to believemyself. Strangest of all is that white men should call upon thoseterrible savage Indians to war with them against their whitebrethren. That, as my good uncle says, is a disgrace to humanity. Ah! I would you could have heard him speak to the officers atyonder fort since his arrival there. They brought in a fewprisoners a few days after we came. They were going to cook and eatthem--to treat them--oh, I cannot think of it! My uncle went to theofficers, and bid them interfere; but they only shrugged theirshoulders, and said they must not anger the Indians, or they woulddesert, and become even more troublesome than they are already. Hegot them out of their hands himself, and sent them safely toMontreal; and oh, how he spoke to the French soldiers and officersafterwards! He said that such wicked disregard of the bond betwixtChristian and Christian must inevitably draw down the wrath ofHeaven upon those who practised it, and that no cause could prosperwhere such things were permitted. 

"I have heard things since I have been here that have filled myheart with sorrow and anger. I have been ashamed of my countrymen!I have felt that our foes are nobler than ourselves, and that Godmust surely arise and fight for them if these abominations aresuffered to continue. "

The Rangers were silent; they well knew what she meant. The Frenchwere culpably weak where the Indians were concerned, permittingthem almost without remonstrance to burn their prisoners from theEnglish lines, and even after engagements leaving the English deadand wounded to the Indians and the wolves, though the Englishalways buried the French dead with their own when they had been inlike circumstances, and had showed kindness to their wounded. 

"The Indians are the plague of the lives of men and officersalike, " continued the girl, breaking forth in animated fashion. "They eat up a week's rations in three days, and come clamouringfor more. They make rules for the English which they will notobserve themselves. They are insolent and disgusting andtreacherous. Oh, I cannot think how our people bear it! I wouldsooner lose all than win through using such tools. I hate to thinkof victory obtained by such means. You Rangers are brave men;though men dread you, yet they respect you, and would fain imitateyour prowess. The Indians are devils--I can find no other name forthem. They are fiends, and I verily think that evil will befall usif we league ourselves with them. Thus my uncle tries to teach; butthey will not listen to his words. "

"Time will show, lady, " answered Fritz; "and there are Indians whoare gentle and tamable, and are some of them even sincere believersin our Christian faith. I have seen and lived among such in thelands of the south. But here they have been corrupted by the vicesof those who should teach them better. It is a disgrace to Englandand France alike that this should be so. "

At this moment the sound of shouting and yelling arose from theforest, and some shots were fired in close succession. The girlstarted to her feet, looking white and scared; but Fritz and Starkstood close beside her, one on either hand, as if to assure herthat no harm should befall her. 

The next moment a fair-haired youth, with a strong likeness to thegirl, came dashing blindly through the forest, calling her name inaccents of frantic fear. 

"Corinne, Corinne, Corinne! Where are you? Hide yourself! Have acare! The Rangers are upon us!"

"I am here, Colin. I am safe!" she cried, in her flute-likeaccents--"I am here all safe. The Rangers are taking care of me. See!"

He pulled up short, blinded and breathless. He had come tearingback to his sister's aid, full of remorse at having been tempted toleave her for a moment in the pleasure of the chase. He stoodpanting, staring at the strange group, unable to get out a word. 

"Call the men in, " said Stark, addressing Charles, who had remainedsilent all the while; "tell them to hurt no one--to make nocaptures. This lady's escort is to remain unmolested. Bring themhere, and we will deliver them their charge safe and sound. "

With alacrity Charles disappeared upon his errand. The oldtender-heartedness of the man always returned when he saw anythingyoung and helpless. There was no fierceness in his strange facetoday, and Corinne, looking after him, said wonderingly:

"Who is he? he looks like one who has seen a ghost!"

In a few terse phrases Fritz told the outline of Charles's story, and how he himself with his companion had found the hapless man andhis brother. 

"Oh, this war is a terrible thing!" cried Corinne, pressing herhands together. "It makes men into devils, I think. Ah, why can wenot live at peace and concord with our brothers? Surely out here, in these wild lands, French and English might join hands, and liveas brothers instead of foes. "

"I fear me, " said Fritz, looking out before him with wide gaze, "that that time is far enough away--that it will never come untilthe kingdoms of this world have become the kingdom of our God andof His Christ, when He shall reign for ever and ever. "

She looked at him in quick surprise. She had not expected to hearsuch words in the mouth of one of Rogers' Rangers. 

"I have heard my uncle speak so, " she said slowly; "but thesoldiers think of nothing but fighting and conquest. "

"We used to think much of that day down in my southern home. Wewere taught to look for the day of the Lord and the coming ofChrist. But men were even there growing weary and impatient. Thestrife of parties was spoiling our home. That is why so many of usjourneyed forth to see the world. But I do not forget what myforefathers taught and believed. "

There was a light of quick sympathy in the girl's eyes; but she hadno time to reply, for the Rangers were coming back, with the Frenchsoldiers in their company. They had surprised the whole band, andhad practically made them prisoners when Charles came up with hisstrange message, and they marched them along to see what it allmeant. 

Great was their astonishment when they saw the golden-haired girlwith her fearless bearing, and the handsome lad standing besideher, still breathless and bewildered. 

"Release these men, " said Stark briefly; "they have been told offfor the service of this lady. Let them resume their charge, andreturn in safety to the fort, or continue their chase in the forestat pleasure. We do not war with women. 

"If you wish to see some pretty hunting, Mistress Corinne, Rogers'Rangers are at your service, and the haunts of bird and beast arewell known to us. "

The girl's eyes sparkled. She was as full of the love of adventureas any boy could be. She looked at her brother, but he shook hishead in doubt. 

"I think our father would not wish it, " he said. "I thank thesegentlemen most gratefully for their courtesy and chivalry, but Ithink we must be returning to the fort. It may be that the shotswill have been heard, and that soldiers may be coming in search ofus already. 

"We shall not forget your kindness, sir. I trust the day will comewhen we may be able to requite you in kind;" and he held out hishand, first to Stark and then to Fritz. 

Corinne had looked a little mutinous at first; but when her brotherspoke of a possible sortie across the water from the fort, her facechanged. Perhaps she was not quite so confident of the chivalry ofthe French soldiers as she had been of that of the Rangers. 

"Perhaps it is best so; yet I should have loved to scour the forestwith Rogers' Rangers. 

"Are you the great Rogers himself?" she asked, turning to Stark, and then letting her glance wander to Fritz's fine face. 

"No, Mistress Corinne; Rogers himself is away farther afield, "answered Stark. "This is Fritz Neville, and I am John Stark, whomhe honours with the title of his lieutenant. "

"Fritz Neville--John Stark, " she repeated, looking from one to theother, a smile in her frank, sweet eyes. "I shall not forget thosenames. I shall say them over every day to myself, and pray that intimes of warfare the saints will watch over and protect the braveEnglish Rangers, who had us as prisoners in their power, and let usgo away safe and sound. "

She held out her hand as she spoke, first to one and then to theother of the men, both of whom took it reverently, pressed it, andbowed low with a sort of rude homage. The other Rangers sent up alittle cheer for the brave young lady who spoke their tongue sowell; and the French soldiers, who looked a little ashamed of thepredicament in which they had placed themselves, smiled, and becamefriendly and at ease, realizing that all was well. 

"We will escort you to your boat, lady, " said Stark; "you willsuffer us that privilege. "

"Ah yes, if it will be safe. But they will not dare fire from thefort when they see that our company is returning. I would I couldtake you back with me, and introduce you to my father and uncle;but perchance it would not be safe. "

"Perhaps we shall make their acquaintance some other way!" saidStark, with a touch of grim humour; and Corinne, understanding him, exclaimed:

"Ah, do not let us think of that! let us only remember that we havemet as friends in the wild forest. "

"A pleasant memory truly, " answered Stark gallantly, "and one sonew to a Ranger that he will never be like to forget it;" and asthey pursued their way towards the lake, he held the youth and thegirl spellbound and breathless by tales of the strange life ofadventure which they led, and by detailing some of theirhairbreadth escapes from the hands of Indians and Frenchmen as theyscoured the forest, lay in ambush, and skulked beneath the veryramparts of the enemy's fortifications, hearing the talk of thesentries overhead. 

"Nay, but you are brave men in sooth; you deserve success. Thefortunes of war must surely be yours at last, " cried Corinne, withcovert enthusiasm. 

"Ah! here is the lake, and here is our boat. Nay, come not further. I fear lest hurt should come to you. I thank you again with all myheart. Perhaps the day will come when we shall see each otheragain. I would fain believe that I shall meet again with Rogers'bold, chivalrous Rangers. "

"It may be--it may be, " answered Stark, with a smile. "Farewell, sweet Mistress Corinne; may you come safely through all perils byland and water. Your brave spirit will carry you well throughlife's troubled sea, I think. "

She smiled, and stepped into the boat. Then suddenly turning andwaving her hand, she said:

"I will tell you one thing which my uncle has said. Whether he willbe a true prophet or no I cannot tell. His words are these, andthey were spoken to M. De Montcalm: 'You are safe now, for Englandis governed by an imbecile--the Duke of Newcastle--a ministerwithout parts, understanding, or courage. But there is another manin England of a different calibre. If ever you hear that Pitt is atthe head of the administration, then look to your laurels; for, ifI be not greatly deceived, that man has brain and energy to turnthe whole tide of battle. Three years after he begins to ruleEngland's policy, and France will have begun to lose her empire inthe West!'"

Chapter 4: Vengeance And Disaster. 

The episode of Corinne, and the prophecy she had quoted to them, formed one of the bright episodes in a year which brought littlesuccess or relief to the army encamped upon the waters of LakeGeorge. There was no campaign that year. The two armies lay insidetheir respective fortifications, each keeping on the defensive; andthe bold Rangers alone did active skirmishing service, as has beenrelated, appearing at all sorts of apparently impossible points, swooping down upon an unwary hunting party or a sleeping sentinel, bringing in spoil to the fort, burning transports bound forTiconderoga, and doing gallant irregular service which kept thegarrison and the Rangers in spirits, but did little or nothing toeffect any change in the condition of affairs. 

Anxiously was news waited for from England. What was the parentcountry going to do for her Western children in their hour of needand extremity? There were rumours afloat of a massing of Indiantribes to be let loose upon the hapless settlers along the Indianborder; and although Sir William Johnson, that able agent ofEngland's with the natives, was hard at work seeking to oppose andcounteract French diplomacy amongst the savage tribes, there wasyet so much disunion and misunderstanding and jealousy amongstEnglish commanders and governors, that matters were constantly at adeadlock; whilst France, with her centralized authority, moved ontowards her goal unimpeded and at ease (as it seemed to theharassed English officials), although not without her internaltroubles also. 

November brought about the usual breaking up of the camps on bothsides. The French soldiers were drafted back to Canada in greatcompanies, sorely beset and harassed at times by the action of theRangers; whilst Winslow drew off the bulk of his men to winterquarters in the larger towns of New England and the adjacentcolonies, leaving Major Eyre in charge of the fort, with sufficientmen to hold it during the dead winter season. 

Rogers' Rangers were independent of weather. They pursued theirhardy and adventurous calling as well through the ice-bound wintermonths as during the genial season of summer. But from time to timehis followers liked to visit their homes and friends, and Winslowwas glad enough to have their company upon his march back uponcivilization; for the Rangers were masters of the art of woodcraft, and were the most able allies when difficulties arose through therising of rivers or the intricacies of the forest paths. 

Stark and his little band, now reduced from a dozen to nine, accompanied the army back to winter quarters; for John desired tosee his friends, and also to raise recruits for next season'scampaign, now that he had learned experience, and had inspiringtales to tell of adventure, victory, and quick retributivevengeance upon a treacherous and rapacious enemy. 

Fritz and Charles both accompanied him, though the latter with somereluctance. He would rather have remained in the neighbourhood ofthe French lines, behind which lay the foe he was bent on meetingonce more face to face; but Stark had represented to him that hissister would wish to see him once more, and Rogers had appointedJanuary as the time when he and his Rangers would be back, when theice would be firm and hard, and they could renew their wild winterwarfare, whilst during the earlier months of the winter there wasno certainty of carrying on any successful operations. Heavy rainand soft snow were too much even for the hardy Rangers to grapplewith. They were practically useless now till the frost came andfastened its firm grip upon the sleeping world. 

There was joy in many a city throughout the English colony when thetroops marched in; although there was mourning in many homes forthe loss of some son or brother killed by the foe, or by the manyforms of sickness which prevailed at the fort. 

There were troubles, too, with the citizens about the billeting ofthe English contingent, and many were the heart burnings whicharose between stubborn townsmen and military rulers before thesematters could be adjusted. But all this made little matter inhouses like that of Benjamin Ashley, who was a true patriot atheart, and threw open his doors not only to his wife's brother, butto as many war-weary soldiers as he could accommodate, and wasnever tired of hearing all that they could tell as to their pastexperiences, or of discussing with them the probable result of thecoming struggle. 

Fritz would sit beside Susanna's spinning wheel in the evening, telling her stories to which she listened in open-eyed amaze, andgiving eager heed to the discussion of politics amongst the othermen. Charles would sit apart, absent and dreamy--a strange figureamongst the rest--very gentle and tender in his manner towardsHannah and Susanna, but taking little or no interest in the dailyround of life, and only counting the days till he could return tothe forest and his mission of vengeance. 

There was great discontent in the hearts of the colonists. Theydeclared that nothing was done for them, and yet they were neverprepared to bestir themselves actively. When Fritz asked eagerlyabout the English statesman Pitt, he was told that he and the Dukeof Newcastle were now acting together in the ministry, and thatsome hoped for better things in consequence. But it was evident toall by this time that the first move made by the new minister wouldbe directed against Louisbourg in Acadia, the only stronghold yetremaining to the French in Cape Breton Island. After driving theenemy from thence, he might, and probably would, turn his attentionto the western frontier; but meantime the colonists here would havemainly to hold back the enemy by their own united efforts, andunity of action was just the thing which appeared most difficult tothem. 

It was not encouraging; but the hardy Rangers were not to bedisheartened, and true to their promise, they only stayed withinwinter quarters till after the festive Christmas season; and thengathering together a compact little body of volunteers, Stark setforward once again for the wild forest, where he was to meet Rogersand his band. 

Fritz was ready to go, despite his parting with pretty Susanna, whose bright eyes sparkled with tears as she said goodbye. It wasnot a time for making new ties; yet the little maiden knew verywell by this time that her life and his were bound together by astrong and tender bond, and that into her own something had enteredwhich could never be taken away. 

They met in the heart of the forest, a few miles from Fort WilliamHenry--Rogers and his large company, and Stark with his smallercontingent. But Stark was now the leader of a band of five-and-twentybold spirits; for so inspiring had been his stories of the Ranger'slife that volunteers had come crowding in, and he had had some adoto get rid of those who were manifestly unfit for the life. EvenEbenezer Jenkyns, in his wild desire to win the approval of Susanna, had begged to be permitted to join the Ranger band, and Stark hadhad some difficulty in ridding himself of the youthful Quaker, suddenly possessed of martial ambitions and ardour. 

Right glad were the garrison at the fort to see the Rangers comemarching in. They had been quite quiet, save for a few minornocturnal raids from Indians, which had not done much harm. Theirchief foe was smallpox, which kept breaking out amongst the men, aswell as other forms of sickness. They did not understandsanitation, and the fort was dirty and unhealthy. Rogers would nothave his men lodged within it; but the Rangers built themselveshuts just outside, and when not otherwise occupied, spent theirtime in the construction of boats and sloops for use on the lake, in which work Major Eyre had kept his men employed during theprevious months. 

But it was not for peaceful toil like this that the Rangers hadgathered together; in a little while, accordingly, a scouting partywas formed, with Crown Point as its goal. 

Snowshoes and skates were looked to, and the hardy Rangers startedoff beneath the grey, leaden winter sky, gliding through the grim, ghost-like forest, silent as death, past ice-bound waterfalls, andforests of fir and larch bent and bowed by the load of snow, everonwards and northwards, always on the alert, ready for instantaction, fearless and undismayed in a white wilderness and in thosetrackless solitudes which would strike dismay into many a boldheart. 

They skirted round Ticonderoga, not showing themselves to theirfoe, and encamped upon the edge of Lake Champlain, lighting fires, and making themselves as comfortable as circumstances permitted. They had travelled hard for many days, and were glad of a littlerest. 

But this rest was not of long duration. Early the next morning, before it was well light, Charles, the sleepless watcher, awoke thecamp by his low whistle of warning. 

"I hear the sound of a sledge on the ice!" he said. 

In a moment every Ranger was on the alert; every man had seized hisweapons, the fires were stamped out, and preparations were made foran instant move. 

A few minutes more and they heard the sound also--the sharp ring ofa sledge upon the ice, and the beat of horse hooves as it drewnearer. 

Now horses were prizes greatly in demand at the English fort, andRogers was eager to obtain possession of this prize. He called outto Stark to make a dash along the lake side with a dozen of hismen, and try to head it off towards the spot where he and the restof the Rangers would wait. And hardly had the order left his lipsbefore Stark was off upon his mission. 

On and on dashed the sledge with its unsuspecting occupants. Theyhad come forth from Ticonderoga, and were heading for Crown Point. Stark and his men flitted like shadows along the snowy banks. Thehorses paused. There was something amiss with the harness. Starklooked at his men, gave a fine English cheer, and rushed forth uponthe ice, with a dozen stout followers at his heels. 

In a moment the occupants of the sledge saw their peril. A yellarose from the throats of all the three. They turned likelightning, and the horses sprang forward at a gallop; but in amoment they were surrounded by Stark and his men, who called uponthem to surrender, and sprang at the horses to stay their headlongflight. 

But now a new terror was added to the scene. Round the bend of thelake swept other sledges--quite an army of them; and whilst theFrench sent up shouts for help, Stark looked round to see whatRogers and his company were doing. 

"Here they come! here they come! Rogers' Rangers! Rogers' Rangers!"yelled his men, as they saw the compact band of veteran woodsmenrushing forth to their aid. 

That cry was well known to the French. For a moment there was apause, the sledges pulling up as though in doubt whether to rushforward and seek to fight their way through, or to turn and runback to Ticonderoga. But the energy with which the Rangers came onsettled that point. Every sledge wheeled round and fled, whilstRogers' men dashed helter skelter upon them, flinging themselvesupon the horses, firing at the occupants, and in spite of allresistance securing three sledges, six horses, and seven Frenchprisoners. 

The rest of the sledges escaped, and Rogers and Stark met eachother with grave faces. 

"They will give notice at Ticonderoga that we are here, " said theformer. "They will come out against us and cut off our retreat. Wemust examine the prisoners ourselves and learn all we can fromthem, and then make our way to the fort as fast as possible throughthe forest. The enemy may be upon us before nightfall. "

Fritz, who spoke French as easily as English, had already beenquestioning the prisoners separately. 

"They all tell the same tale, " he said gravely: "they have fivehundred regular soldiers at the fort, and Indians coming in daily. They were organizing parties to intercept communication betweenFort Edward and Fort William Henry. They are pledged to theextermination of the Rangers wherever they meet them. Directly theyknow that we are lurking in their vicinity, they will come out ingreat numbers against us. "

Rogers' face was set and stern. 

"We will give them a warm welcome when they do!" he said. "Meantimewe will lose no time. Light up the fires and dry the ammunitionwhich has become wet. The horses must be sacrificed and the sledgesburned. As for the men, we must keep them till the last minute. When we go, they can go back to their fort. They will have nothingto tell there which is not known already. The Rangers slay men infair fight, but they do not butcher prisoners. "

The thing was done. Rogers' commands were carried out, and incautious single file the band of Rangers crept through the forestby devious tracks known to themselves, keeping eyes and ears everon the alert. 

"Have a care!" came the warning cry of Charles at last; "I hear thecocking of guns. "

The words had hardly passed his lips before a volley blazed outfrom the bushes, and many a bold Ranger fell as he stood, shotthrough the heart. 

"Steady, men--and fire!" cried Rogers, speaking as coolly as thougha hail storm and not one of hot lead was raining about them. Bloodwas running down his cheek from a graze on the temple; and Fritzfelt for the first time the stinging sensation in his arm which hehad heard described so many times before. 

In a moment they had spread themselves out in the best possiblemanner, retreating upon the hill they had just descended, andcovering themselves with the trees, from behind which they firedwith unerring accuracy. Stark and some of his men were at the topof the hill, having been the rear guard of the company. They poureda steady, deadly fire into the bushes which concealed the foe;whilst their comrades, running from tree to tree, fell back uponthem, and forming on the hilltop, repulsed again and again, withstubborn gallantry, the assault of a foe which they knew mustoutnumber them by four or five to one. 

But the face of Rogers was still set and stern. 

"They will try to outflank us next, and get round to the rear, " hesaid between his teeth to Stark. "Stark, you must pick some of ourbest men, and stop that movement if it occurs. If they get usbetween two fires, we are all dead men!"

"Fritz, you will be my lieutenant, " said Stark, as he looked abouthim and chose his company. Fritz was at his side in a moment. "Weare in as evil a chance as ever men were yet, " he added, "but Ithink we shall live to tell the tale by the warm fireside at home. I have been in tight fixes before this, and have won throughsomehow. I trust our gallant Rogers will not fall. That would carryconfusion to our ranks. "

Shoulder to shoulder stood Fritz and Stark, warily watching themovements of the foe. They saw them creeping round the base of thehill--saw it by the movement of the brushwood rather than byanything else; for their foes were used to bush craft, too. 

"If anything should go amiss with me today, friend John, " saidFritz, as he loaded his piece, looking sternly down into the hollowbeneath, "give my love to Susanna, and tell her that her name willbe on my lips and my heart in the hour of death. "

"Talk not of death, man, but of victory!" cried Stark, whoseindomitable cheerfulness never forsook him. "Yet I will rememberand give the message to my pretty cousin--for I know that womenlive on words like these--if the blow has to fall. But never thinkof that!"

"I do not, " answered Fritz; "I hope to come forth safe and sound. But were it otherwise--"

"Fire!" cried Stark, breaking suddenly into the commander; and asharp, deadly volley blazed forth from the guns of his contingent. 

It was plain that the enemy had not expected this flank movement tobe observed. Cries of dismay and pain rang through the forest. Theybroke cover and ran back towards the main body, followed by anotherwell-directed volley from the brave Stark and his men. 

Round the spot where Rogers and the main body of the Rangers stoodthe fight waxed fierce and hot. But Stark held to his post on thespur of the hill, where he saw how the foe was trying to get roundto their rear; and again and again his well-aimed volleys sent themflying back decimated to their companions. 

But how was it going with the others? The firing was incessant, andshouts and cries told of death and disaster on both sides. Starkbid Fritz make a dash for the main body and bring back word. Thebrief winter's day was beginning to draw to a close. There wassomething terrible in the brightness of the fire that was streamingfrom the thickets as the daylight failed. It seemed as though thevery forest was in flames; and the crack of musketry was almostunceasing. 

"They are calling upon us to surrender, " said Fritz, hastening backwith his tale. "The French are calling upon Rogers by name, begginghim to trust to their honour and clemency, and promising the bestof treatment if he and his brave men will surrender. They arecalling out that it is a pity so many bold men should perish likebrute beasts. But Rogers stands like a rock, and replies by volleyafter volley. He has been hit through the wrist, and his head isbound about by a cloth; but he looks like a lion at bay, and willnot yield one inch. "

"Let us back to his side, and make one great charge against thefoe!" shouted Stark, who saw that no further flank movement was tobe anticipated now. His men answered by a cheer. They were readyfor any display of gallantry and courage, and swore by Stark, whowas beloved of all for his happy temper and cheerful, dauntlessbravery. 

Up the shoulder of the hill and across the ridge they dashed. Theyshouted their cry of "Rogers' Rangers! Rogers' Rangers!" It wastaken up by those upon the top, who gathered together and made ablind rush down towards their foe. The French, taken by surprise atthis impetuosity, and afraid of the darkness of the forest, madeoff in haste for Ticonderoga, having worked sad havoc amongst thebold Rangers, who were left alone with their wounded and dead, theshades of night gathering fast round them, and the camp of the foewithin a few miles. 

It was a situation of grave peril; but Rogers was not to bedaunted. He buried his dead; he gathered together the wounded, andafraid to allow even a night for rest, he marched his party allthrough the night, and by morning they were upon the shores of LakeGeorge. 

"I will fetch a sledge for the wounded, " quoth Stark, full ofenergy and enterprise as usual. "It will puzzle the enemy to findthe route we have taken. Lie you here close and keep watch andward, and I will fetch succour from the fort before the French havetime to seek us out. "

This was good counsel, and Rogers followed it. Stark, after a quickjourney across the ice, brought sledges and soldiers from the fort, and in a few more days the Rangers were brought back in triumph totheir huts without Fort William Henry, where they were content tolie idle for a short while, recovering from their wounds andfatigues. Hardly a man had escaped uninjured; and some were verydangerously wounded, and died from the effects of the injuriesreceived. Fritz himself had a slight attack of fever resulting fromthe wound which he had scarcely noticed in the heat of battle. Stark was almost the only member of the company who had come forthquite unscathed, and he was the life of the party during the nextspell of inaction, telling stories, setting the men to usefultasks, making drawings of the French forts for the guidance of theEnglish, and amusing the whole place by his sudden escapades indifferent directions. 

The Rangers were further cheered by a letter of thanks from GeneralAbercromby, lately sent out from England, recognizing their gallantservice, and promising that it should be made known to the King. 

But the adventures of the winter were not over, although the dayswere lengthening out, and the blustering rains and winds of Marchhad come. The snow was greatly lessened; but a spell of frost stillheld the lake bound, and the rigours of the season were littleabated. 

It was St. Patrick's Day; and as some of the soldiers in FortWilliam Henry were Irish, they had celebrated the anniversary by arevel which had left a large proportion more or less drunk andincapable. Their English comrades had followed their lead withalacrity, and the Fort was resounding with laughter and song. 

But the Rangers in the huts outside were on the alert and as Starkremarked with a smile, they must keep watch and ward that night, for nobody else seemed to have any disposition to do so. 

Major Eyre, in pity for the forlorn condition of his men, had notrestrained them from amusing themselves in their own fashion uponthis anniversary. It was well, however, that there were somesleepless watchers on the alert that night; for as the grey dawnbegan to break, a sound was heard over the ice as though of anapproaching multitude. The Rangers gave the alarm, and manned theguns. There was nothing to be seen through the murky mists of dawn;but the guns belched forth fire and round shot towards the lake, and the sounds suddenly ceased. 

An hour later Charles came rushing in; there was blood upon hisface, and his eyes were wild, but in his excitement he seemed toknow nothing of any hurt. 

"They are coming! they are coming! I have seen them! There arehundreds upon hundreds of them, well armed, well equipped witheverything that men can want. They are bound for the fort. They aregoing to take it, They have sworn it! And he is in their ranks. Isaw him with these eyes. He is there. He is one of them. We shallmeet again, and this time he shall not escape me!"

In a moment all was excitement and bustle. The men, sobered by thenear presence of danger, were at their posts in a moment. All knewthat the fort was not strong, and that a resolute assault by alarge force would he difficult to repel; but at least they had notbeen taken by surprise, and that was something. 

A yell from without told that something was going on there. TheRangers were driving off a party of men who had crept up undercover of the mist wreaths, hoping to fire the huts outside, and soburn the fort. They were sent helter skelter over the ice to rejointheir comrades; and after a pause of some hours an officer was seenadvancing from the French lines bearing a flag. 

He was blindfolded, that he might not see the weak parts of thefort, and was brought to Major Byre and the other officers. Hismessage was to advise them to surrender the fort and obtain forthemselves favourable terms, threatening a massacre if this wasrefused. 

"I shall defend myself to the last!" said Major Byre calmly. "Englishmen do not give up their forts at the bidding of the foe. We can at least die like men, if we cannot defend ourselves, andthat has yet to be proved. "

The news of this demand and the reply flew like wildfire throughthe ranks, and inspired the men with courage and ardour. TheRangers were brought within the fort, and all was made ready forthe assault. 

A storm of shot hailed upon the fort. Through the gatheringdarkness of the night they could only distinguish the foe by thered glare from their guns. The English fort was dark and silent. Itreserved its fire till the enemy came closer. The crisis was comingnearer and nearer. There was a tense feeling in the air, as thoughan electric cloud hovered over all. 

Charles went about with a strange look upon his face. 

"He is there--he is coming. We shall meet!" he kept repeating; andall through that night there was no sleep for him--he wanderedabout like a restless spirit. No service was demanded of him. Hewas counted as one whose mind wanders. Yet in the hour of battlenone could fight with more obstinate bravery than Charles Angell. 

"Fire! fire! fire!"

It was Charles's voice that raised the cry in the dead of thenight. No attack had been made upon the fort; but under cover ofdarkness the enemy had crept nearer and nearer to the outlyingbuildings, and tongues of flame were shooting up. 

Instantly the guns were turned in that direction, and a fusilladeawoke the silence of the sleeping lake, whilst cries of agony toldhow the bullets and shots had gone home. 

"Come, Rangers, " shouted Rogers, "follow me out and fall upon them!Drive them back! Save the fort from fire!"

Rogers never called upon his men in vain. No service was too fullof peril for them. Ignorant as they were of the number or power oftheir assailants, they dashed in a compact body out of the sidegate towards the place where the glare of the fire illumined thedarkness of the night. 

Dark forms were hurrying hither and thither; but the moment theRangers appeared with their battle cry, there was an instant routand flight. 

"After them!" shouted Rogers; and the men dashed over the roughground, pursuers and pursued, shouting, yelling, firing--and theysaw that some bolder spirits amongst the Frenchmen had even setfire to the sloop on the stocks which Rogers had been teaching thesoldiers how to construct. 

But in the forefront of the pursuit might be seen one wild, strangefigure with flying hair and fiery eyes. He turned neither to theright hand nor to the left, but ran on and on in a straight line, keeping one flying figure ever in view. 

The flying figure seemed to know that some deadly pursuit wasmeant; for he, too, never turned nor swerved, but dashed on and on. He gained the frozen lake; but the treacherous, slippery ice seemedto yield beneath his feet. He had struck the lake at the pointwhere it was broken up to obtain water for the fort. 

A yell of horror escaped him. He flung up his arms and disappeared. 

But his pursuer dashed on and on, a wild laugh escaping him as hesaw what had happened. The next minute he was bending down over theyawning hole, and had put his long, strong arm through it into theicy water beneath. 

He touched nothing. The hapless man had sunk to rise no more. Oncesucked beneath the deep waters of the frozen lake, exhausted as hewas, there was no hope for him. Charles cut and hacked at the iceblocks, regardless of his own personal safety; and after longlabour he succeeded in moving some of them, and in dragging out thelifeless corpse, already frozen stiff, of the man he had sworn toslay. 

The French were flying over the frozen ice, the Rangers in pursuit. They came upon the strange spectacle, and stopped short in amaze. Adead man lay upon the ice of the lake where it was broken anddangerous, his dead face turned up to the moonlight, his handsclinched and stiff and frozen. Beside the corpse sat Charles, hisglassy eyes fixed upon the dead face, himself almost as stiff andstark. 

They came up and spoke to him; but he only pointed to the corpse. 

"That is he--that is he!" he cried hoarsely. "I saw him, and he sawme. We fought, and he fled. I have been running after him over iceand snow for years and years. He is dead now--dead, dead, dead! TheLord has delivered him into my hand. My work is done!"

He stood up suddenly, threw up his arms, and then fell heavilyforward face downwards upon the ice. 

When they lifted him up and carried him within the fort, it was tofind that Charles Angell the Ranger was dead. 

Book 3: Disaster. 

Chapter 1: A Tale Of Woe. 

The intrepidity of the officer in command, and the alertness andcourage of the Rangers, had saved Fort William Henry from onethreatened disaster. 

When the French had fairly retreated, after having been forced tocontent themselves with the burning of the boats and the unfinishedsloop and certain of the surrounding huts and buildings, theEnglish found out from their prisoners how great their peril hadbeen. For the French force sent against them had been a strong one, well equipped, and hopeful of surprising the place and carrying itby a coup de main. 

Failing in this, they had made a show of hostility, but had notreally attempted anything very serious. The season was againstanything like a settled siege, and they had retreated quickly totheir own quarters. 

But this attack was only to be the prelude to one on a verydifferent scale already being organized at headquarters. TheEnglish heard disquieting rumours from all quarters, and turnedeager eyes towards England and their own colonies from whence helpshould come to them, for their numbers were terribly thinned bydisease, and death in many forms had taken off pretty well a thirdof their number. 

Rogers himself had been attacked by smallpox, and upon his recoveryhe and the large body of the Rangers betook themselves to the woodsand elsewhere, preferring the free life of the forest, with itsmanifold adventures and perils, to the monotonous life in anunhealthy fort. 

But Fritz remained behind. When Rogers left he was not fit toaccompany him, having been suffering from fever, though he hadescaped the scourge of smallpox. He had felt the death of Charles agood deal. He had become attached to the strange, half-crazed manwho had been his special comrade for so long. It seemed likesomething wanting in his life when his care was no longer required byany one person. Indeed all the Rangers missed their white-headed, wild-eyed, sharp-eared recruit; and as the saying is, many a betterman could better have been spared. 

Stark went with Rogers, too much the true Ranger now to be leftbehind. Fritz intended to follow them as soon as he was wellenough. Meantime he had formed a warm friendship with two youngofficers lately come to the fort with the new commander, ColonelMonro--one of them being Captain Pringle, and the other a younglieutenant of the name of Roche. 

Colonel Monro was a Scotchman, a brave man and a fine soldier. Those under his command spoke of him in terms of warm and lovingadmiration. Fritz heard of some of his achievements from his newfriends, and in his turn told them of his own adventures and of thelife he had led during the past two years. 

"We have heard of the Rangers many a time and oft, " cried Roche. "We had thought of offering ourselves to Rogers as volunteers; butmen are so sorely wanted for the regular army and the militia thatour duty seemed to point that way. But I should like well to followthe fortunes of the hardy Rogers. "

It was true indeed that men were sorely wanted at Fort WilliamHenry. Colonel Monro looked grave and anxious as he examined itsdefences. It was an irregular bastioned square, built of gravel andearth, crowned by a rampart of heavy logs, and guarded by ditcheson three sides, and by the lake on the north. But it was not strongenough to stand a very heavy assault, although it was provided withseventeen cannons, besides some mortars and swivels. 

The garrison numbered at this time something over two thousand; butthere were many sick amongst these, and sickness was inclined tospread, to the grave anxiety of the commander. 

Fourteen miles away to the south lay Fort Edward, and General Webbwas there with some fifteen hundred men. He had sent on as many menas he felt able to spare some short time before, in response to anappeal from Colonel Monro. Disquieting rumours of an advance fromTiconderoga were every day coming to their ears. Summer was at itsheight, and if a blow were to be struck, it would certainly besoon. 

A scouting party was sent out under the command of a certainColonel Parker, in order to learn the strength of the enemy andwhat they were about. Three days passed in anxious suspense, and asnothing was heard of the scouting party, Fritz begged leave to goforth with a handful of men to look for them, promising not toexpose himself or them to danger. As he knew the forest so well, and was an experienced Ranger, leave was quickly obtained, andPringle and Roche were permitted to be of the company. 

They started with the first dawn of the summer's morning; but theyhad not gone far before they came upon traces of their companions. Fritz's quick eyes saw tracks in the forest which bespoke the nearneighbourhood of Indians, and this made them all proceed with greatcaution. The tracks, however, were some days old, he thought, andled away to the westward. At one spot he pointed out to hiscompanions certain indications which convinced him that a largenumber of Indians had lately been lying there. 

"Pray Heaven it has not been an ambush sent to outwit and overpowerour men!" he said. "What would those raw lads from New Jersey do ifsuddenly confronted by a crew of yelling Indians? I trust I am nocoward myself, but the sound of that awful war whoop thrills mestill with a kind of horror; it has been the forerunner of many atragedy to the white man out in wildernesses such as this. "

"I have heard it once, " said Pringle, with an expressive gesture, "and I could well wish never to hear it again, did not duty to Kingand country drive me willingly forth to fight against these duskysavages, who make of these fair lands a veritable hell upon earth. 

"Hark! what is that?"

It was like the sound of a faint cry not so very far away. Theylistened, and it was presently repeated. Fritz started forward at arun. 

"That is no Indian voice, " he exclaimed; "it is one of our mencalling for aid. He has heard our voices. "

Followed by the rest of the party, Fritz ran forward, and soon cameout into a more open glade, commanded by the ridge where he hadobserved the signs of Indian occupation. As he did so he uttered astartled exclamation, which was repeated in all kinds of keys bythose who came after. For in this glade lay the bodies of fullfifty of their soldiers, for the most part stripped and scalped;and the place was so trodden and bloodstained as to show plainlythat it had been the scene of a bloody conflict. 

Crawling forth from a little sheltered gorge was a wan, dishevelledfigure, bloodstained and ghastly. And Fritz, springing forward, caught the lad in his strong arms, whilst he fell to feeble sobbingin the plenitude of his thankfulness and relief. 

When he was fed and heartened up he had a terrible tale to tell. 

It had been as Fritz thought. A party of Indians had been crouchingin the forest, and had fallen upon the company unawares. ColonelParker had not been wise. He had divided his men into twocompanies. One had gone by boats, and one had skirted through theforest. What had happened to the boats the lad could not tell. Hehad been one of the very few survivors of the land party, and heowed his escape to his having fallen wounded and breathless intothe little cleft in the rocks hidden by the thick undergrowth, sothat the Indians did not find him when they made their search afterscalps and accoutrements. 

Crouching amongst the bushes, half fainting from terror, the ladhad seen it all. 

"They scalped them one by one, yelling and shouting and dancing. They cared not whether they were dead or not. Oh, it was horrible, horrible! They lighted a fire to burn some of the prisoners, anddanced around it yelling and jeering as their victims died. Oh, Ican never forget the sight! Every moment I thought they would findme. I thought of all the things I had heard that savages did totheir prisoners. If I had had my sword, I would have run it throughmy heart. But I had nothing, and presently I suppose I fainted, forI can remember no more; and when I woke they had all gone, and onlythe bodies lay about beside me. They had taken off their own dead;but I durst not come out, lest they should come back and find me, and I did not know where I was. 

"There was water in the brook, or I should have died; and I used tocrawl out and drink, and go and hide myself again. And last of allI heard English voices, and called out; and that is all I can tellyou. "

They made a litter and carried the lad back to the fort, where helay tossing in fever for many a long day to come. It was evil newsthat they had for their comrades; and it was not more cheering whenstragglers from the scouting party came back by twos and threes, all with the same tale. The Indians were overrunning all theforests and lakes. They had mustered around the French camp byhundreds and thousands, and were scouring the woods everywhere, under no sort of discipline, excited, rebellious, rapacious, yettoo useful as allies not to be humoured by those who had summonedthem to their aid. 

All had horrid tales to tell of cannibal feasts, and of the savagetreatment of prisoners. Some declared they had seen French officersand ecclesiastics striving to interfere, but that the Indians paidno manner of heed to them. 

"There was a young priest who saw them eating human flesh at theirfire, and he came up and rebuked them. I was sitting by. I had acord round my neck. Sweat was pouring from me, for I knew I shouldbe the next victim. They looked at the priest, and one young Indiancried out in French, 'You have French taste, I have Indian; this isgood meat for me. Taste it yourself, and see if you cannot learn tolike it too!' Whereat all the rest laughed aloud. But the priestrebuked them again, and offered money if they would give me up; andpresently they did, though rather against their will. They weresending some prisoners to Montreal, and I was to have gone there, too; but in the night I escaped, and as I knew something of theforest, I have got back safe and sound. "

Tales like these came pouring in as the survivors struggled back tothe fort. All were agreed that the Indians were very numerous andvery fierce, and it was said by all that the muster of the Frenchseemed to be very strong. 

Anxiety and fear reigned throughout the fort. Fritz almost livedupon the lake in his boat, watching for the first signs of theenemy's approach. That a great part of it would come by water hedid not doubt. And sometimes he would leave his boat in a creek, and climb some adjacent height, from whence he could scan thesurface of the lake, and see what was stirring there. 

Roche was his companion on those excursions; and the two hadclimbed together to a commanding height, when upon the dawn of aglorious midsummer morning they saw the long-expected flotillacovering the lake and making headway up it. 

What a sight it was! The hearts of the onlookers seemed to standstill within them as they looked. And yet it was a magnificentspectacle. Myriads and myriads of Indian canoes like flocks ofwaterfowl seemed swarming everywhere, whilst from two to threehundred bateaux conveyed the French and Canadian soldiers. Thenthere were great platforms bearing the heavy guns, and rowed byhuge sweeps, as well as being assisted by the bateaux; whilst theblaze of colour formed by the uniforms of the various battalionsformed in itself a picture which had seldom been seen in thesesavage solitudes. 

"We shall have our work cut out to face such odds!" cried Fritz, ashe turned to dash down the hill and regain his canoe. But Rochelaid a hand upon his arm, and pointed significantly in anotherdirection. 

Fritz looked, and a smothered exclamation, almost like a groan, broke from him. 

Far away through the mazes of the forest, skirting round towardsthe doomed fort by a road parallel with the lake, was a large bodyof troops--how large the spectators could not guess, but they sawenough to tell them that it was a very considerable detachment. Such an army as the one now marching upon Fort William Henry hadnot been seen there before. To those who knew the weakness of thefort and of its garrison it seemed already as though the day werelost. 

Moreover these men knew that the great Marquis de Montcalm himselfwas coming this time to take personal command, and his nameinspired respect and a certain fear. He was known to be a generalof considerable distinction; it was felt that there would be noblundering when he was at the head of the expedition. 

To fly back to the fort with these ominous tidings was but the workof a few short hours. In a moment all was stir and bustle. Thesoldiers were not to be disheartened. They were ready and almosteager for the battle, having become weary of inaction and suspense. But the face of Colonel Monro was grave and stern, and he calledFritz aside presently and conferred with him apart. 

"I must send a messenger to Fort Edward to General Webb, to reportto him our sorry plight. He has said that he can spare no more men;but this extremity of ours should be told him. Think you that youcan take a letter safely to him? You Rangers are the best ofmessengers; and you have seen this great armament, and can speakwith authority concerning it. Tell him how sore our need is. It maybe that he can hurry up the reinforcements, or that they may bealready on their way. Even a few hundreds would be better thannone. At least he should know our need. "

Fritz was ready in a moment to take the message, but he had smallhope of any result, and he saw that the brave Colonel had littleeither. General Webb was a man upon whose courage and generalshipseveral aspersions had already been cast. If ever he was to regainconfidence and show these aspersions to be untrue, this was thetime to show himself in his true colours. But it was with noconfidence that Fritz set forth upon his errand. 

Not long ago General Webb had visited the fort, and had givencertain orders and had spoken brave words about coming to commandin person should need arise; but he had returned to Fort Edward thefollowing day, and had then sent the reinforcements which were allhe was able to spare. It remained to be seen whether he wouldfulfil his promise when he knew that the attack of the enemy mightbe expected every hour. 

Fritz rode in hot haste to the fort and asked for the General. Hebrought news of urgency, he told them, and was instantly shown tothe General's quarters. He stood in silence whilst the letter whichFritz brought was opened and read; then he abruptly asked the tallyoung Ranger what it was he had seen. 

Fritz told his tale in simple, graphic words, the General marchingup and down the room meantime, evidently in some perturbation ofspirit; but all he said at the close was:

"Go back and tell Colonel Monro that I have no troops here which Ican safely withdraw, but that I have sent, and will send, expressesto the provinces for help. "

Fritz was too much the soldier to make reply. He bowed and retired, well knowing that no express sent to New England could be of thesmallest service now. It was with a bitter sense of failure that hetook the fresh horse provided for him and made all speed back tothe camp. 

The road was still clear, but how long it would remain so there wasno knowing. Swarms of Indians were drawing around them. If succourdid not come quickly, it would arrive too late. 

Monro received the message in silence, and continued to strengthenhis own defences as best he might. The next day brought the enemyfull in view, and the numbers of the hostile host astonished thoughthey did not dismay the brave little garrison. 

Once more Monro sent forth Fritz with a letter to the General. 

"The French are upon us, " he wrote, "both by land and water. Theyare well supplied with artillery, which will make sad havoc of ourdefences, for these, you have seen for yourself, are none of thestrongest. Nevertheless the garrison are all in good spirits, andeager to do their duty. I make no doubt that you will send us areinforcement, for we are very certain that a part of the enemywill soon get possession of the road, and in that case ourcondition would become very serious. "

Again Fritz was entrusted with this letter; again he made the rapidnight journey over the familiar road. 

This time he was not admitted to the General's presence, and afterhe had remained at Fort Edward about an hour and had beenrefreshed, a message came to say that General Webb had received theletter and considered it, but could make no other reply than he haddone the previous day. 

"Then God help us, " said the Scotch veteran when this message wasbrought him, "for vain is the help of man!"

And although he went about the fort with as calm and cheerful amien as before, he was certain in his own heart that Fort WilliamHenry was now doomed. 

"They are surrounding us on all sides, " cried Roche, as soon asFritz appeared upon the ramparts with his disheartening message, which, however, he kept for the moment to himself. "See, they areworking their way through the forest to the rear, just beyond ourrange. Soon we shall be hemmed in, and they will bring up theirguns. We have done what we can for these poor walls; but they willnot long stand the cannonade of all those guns we see lying yonderon the platoons upon the lake. "

"We must hope that the militia from the provinces will come upbefore their preparations are complete, " said Fritz. "They shouldbe on their way by now. But delay and procrastination have evermarked our methods through this war. Nevertheless the men are ingood spirits; they are eager for the fight to begin. I marvel attheir courage, seeing how great are the odds. But even the sickseemed fired by martial ardour!"

It was so. The long inaction of the winter and spring had beenwearisome and disheartening. It was impossible for the soldiers todoubt that they would receive help from without now that it wasknown that the enemy was actually upon them. Moreover, they allknew, and some remembered, how the assault of a few months back hadbeen repulsed; and not realizing the different scale upon whichthis one was to be conducted, were full of hopeful confidence andemulation. 

Before hostilities actually commenced, Colonel Monro summoned hisofficers about him. Great excitement prevailed in the fort, for itwas known that a messenger had been admitted under a flag of truce, and that he brought a letter from the Marquis de Montcalm. It wasto the reading of this letter that Monro invited his officers. 

"We have to deal with an honourable foe, gentlemen, " said theveteran, looking at those about him, "as you will know when I readto you his words. 'I owe it to humanity, ' so writes M. De Montcalm, 'to summon you to surrender. At present I can restrain the savages, and make them observe the terms of a capitulation, as I might nothave power to do under other circumstances; and the most obstinatedefence on your part can only retard the capture of the place a fewdays, and endanger an unfortunate garrison which cannot berelieved, in consequence of the dispositions I have made. I demanda decisive answer within an hour. ' That, gentlemen, is the messagebrought to us. What answer shall we return to our high-mindedadversary?"

There was only one word in the mouths of all. 

"No surrender! no surrender!" they called aloud, waving theirswords in the air; and the cry was taken up by those without, andreached the soldiers upon the ramparts, and the welkin rang withthe enthusiastic shout:

"No surrender! no surrender!"

By this time the Indians were swarming about close outside theramparts, and hearing this cry and knowing its meaning, they lookedup and gesticulated fiercely. 

"You won't surrender, eh?" bawled in broken French an old Indianchief. "Fire away then and fight your best; for if we catch youafter this, you shall get no quarter!"

The response to this threat was the heavy boom of the cannon asFort William Henry discharged its first round of artillery. 

For a moment it produced immense effect amongst the swarms ofpainted savages, who scuttled away yelling with fear; for thoughwell used to the sound of musketry, and having considerable skillwith firearms themselves, they had never heard the roar of big gunsbefore, and the screaming of the shells as they whistled overheadfilled them with terror and amaze. 

They were intensely eager for the French guns to be got intoposition, and were a perfect nuisance to the regular soldiers, asthey worked with intrepid industry at their trenches and mounds. But before long even the Indians were satisfied with the prolongedroar of artillery, which lasted day after day, day after day;whilst within their walls the brave but diminished garrison lookedvainly for succour, and examined with a sinking heart theirdiminished store of ammunition and their cracked and overheatedguns. 

"It cannot go on long like this, " the officers said one to theother. "What is the General doing over yonder? He must hear by theheavy firing what straits we are in. He knows the condition of thefort. He should risk and dare everything to come to our aid. Ifthis fort is lost, then our western frontier has lost its onlypoint of defence against the inroads of Indians and theencroachments of France. "

A few days later and a cry went up from the walls, "A white flag! awhite flag!" and for a moment a wild hope surged up in the heartsof the soldiers that the enemy had grown tired of the game of war, and had some proposal to make. 

The messenger brought a letter. It was not from the Frenchcommander himself, though it was delivered with a courteous messagefrom him. It had been found upon the body of a white man slain bythe Indians a few days before, and brought to the French camp. TheMarquis de Montcalm had read it, and sent it now to the person forwhom it was intended. 

"Give my thanks, " said Monro, "to the Marquis for his courtesy, andtell him that it is a joy to me to have to do with so generous afoe. "

But the letter thus received was one of evil omen to the haplessgarrison. It came from General Webb, and repeated that, untilreinforced from the provinces, he could do nothing for the garrisonof Fort William Henry; and advised Colonel Monro to make the bestterms that he could with the enemy, who were plainly too strong forhim to withstand. 

It was time indeed for the gallant little garrison to think ofsurrender. Men and officers stood in knots together gloomilysurveying the scene. 

"We have done what men can do, " said Captain Pringle to his friendsFritz and Roche; "but where are we now? A third of our men are sickand wounded. Almost all our big guns are burst. The enemy'strenches are being pushed nearer and nearer, and there are stillmore of their guns to be brought to bear. Our wall is breached; Imarvel they have not already made an assault. There is nothing forit but surrender, if we can obtain honourable terms of capitulation. "

"Nay, rather let us die sword in hand and face to foe!" criedRoche, with a sudden burst of enthusiasm. "Let us make a lastdesperate sortie, and see if we cannot drive the enemy from theirposition. Anything is better than dying here like rats in a hole! Aforlorn hope is better than none. Why should we not at least cutour way out to the free forest, if we cannot rout the enemy anddrive them back whence they came?"

"The life of the free forest would mean death to those raw lads whohave come out from England or from the provinces, " said Fritzgravely. "It would be hardly more than a choice of deaths; and yetI would sooner die sword in hand, hewing my way to freedom, thancooped up between walls where every shot begins to tell, and wherethe dead can scarce be buried for the peril to the living. "

And indeed the position of affairs was so deplorable that a councilwas held by Monro; and it was agreed that if any desired to makethis last sortie, either for life and liberty for themselves, or inthe last forlorn hope of driving the enemy from their position, itmight be attempted; but if it failed, there was nothing for it butcapitulation, if honourable terms could be had, or if not to die attheir posts, fighting to the very last. 

A cheer went up from the men when they heard these words. If theyhad well nigh lost hope, their courage was not quenched, and alarge band volunteered for the sortie. Fritz and Roche were amongstthese, but Pringle remained behind in the fort. 

"I will stand by the Colonel and the sinking ship, " he said. "It isbut a choice of evils. I doubt if any of us will see the light ofmany more days. I prefer the chances of war to the unknown horrorsof the forest filled with savages. "

He laid a hand upon Roche's arm and looked affectionately into theboyish brave young face. Then he turned to Fritz. 

"If you should get through, take care of the lad. You are a Ranger;you know the forest well. If any can escape safely thither, it willbe you and such as you. But don't forsake the boy--don't let himfall alive into the hands of the Indians; kill him yourself sooner. And now fare well, and God bless you both: for I think that on thisearth we shall meet no more. "

"Nay, why think that?" cried Roche eagerly; "stranger things havehappened before now than that we should all live to tell the taleof these days. "

Pringle shook his head; whilst Fritz wrung his hand and said:

"At least remember this: if you should wish to have news of us, askit of Rogers' Rangers, who are always to be heard of in theseparts. If we escape, it is to Rogers we shall find our way. He willbe glad enough to welcome us, and from any of his Rangers you willhear news of us if we ever reach his ranks. "

There was no sleep for the fort that night. Indeed the hot summernights were all too short for any enterprise to be undertaken then. The glow in the western sky had scarcely paled before there mighthave been seen creeping forth through the battered gateway fileafter file of soldiers, as well equipped as their circumstancesallowed--silent, stealthy, eager for the signal which should launchthem against the intrenched foe so close at hand. 

But alas for them, they had foes wily, watchful, lynx-eyed, ever onthe watch for some such movement. Hardly had they got clear oftheir protecting walls and ditches, when, with a horrid yell, hundreds and thousands of dusky Indians leaped up from the groundand rushed frantically towards them. The next moment the boom ofguns overhead told that the French camp had been alarmed. Theregular soldiers would be upon them in a few minutes, driving themback to the fort, killing and wounding, and leaving the Indians tobutcher and scalp at their leisure. The fearful war whoop wasringing in their ears. The line wavered--broke; the men made afrantic rush backwards towards their lines. 

"Don't fly!" cried Roche suddenly to Fritz, at whose side hemarched; "let us cut our way through, or die doing it. It is deathwhichever way we turn. Let us die like men, with our faces and notour backs to the foe!"

"Come then!" cried Fritz, upon whom had fallen one of those strangebursts of desperate fury which give a man whilst it lasts thestrength of ten. 

With a wild bound he sprang forward, bursting through the ranks ofIndians like the track of a whirlwind, scattering them right andleft, hewing, hacking, cutting! Roche was just behind or at hisside; the two seemed invulnerable, irresistible, possessed of somesupernatural strength. The Indians in amaze gave way right andleft, and turned their attention to the flying men, who were easierto deal with than this strange couple. 

A shout went up that the devil was abroad, and the Indian, eversuperstitious, shrank away from these stalwart figures, believingthem to be denizens from some other world; whilst the Frenchsoldiers, who might have felt very differently, had not yet so farequipped themselves as to be ready to come out from their lines. 

Fritz had marked his line with care. Only upon one small sectionbetween lake and forest was there any possible passage withoutperil from the French lines, and that was by skirting the head ofthe lake just where their own intrenched camp, now almost in ruins, gave them shelter. 

The woodsman's and the Ranger's instinct kept true within him evenin the confusion and darkness. He never deflected from his line. 

"This way! this way!" he called to Roche in smothered tones, asthey heard the sound of the fight growing fainter behind them. Hetook the lad's hand, and plunged into the marshy hollow. He knewthat none would follow them there; the ground was too treacherous. But there was a path known to himself which he could find blindfoldby day or night. 

He pulled his comrade along with a fierce, wild haste, till at acertain point he paused. There was a little cavernous shelter inthe midst of the morass, and here the pair sank down breathless andexhausted. 

"We are saved!" gasped Roche, clasping his comrade by the hand. 

"For the moment--yes, " answered Fritz; "but what of afterwards?"

Chapter 2: Escape. 

Young Roche lay face downwards upon the rocky floor of the littlecavern, great sobs breaking from him which he was unable torestrain. Fritz, with a stern, set face, sat beside anotherprostrate figure--that of a man who looked more dead than alive, and whose head and arm were wrapped in linen bandages soakedthrough and through with blood. 

It was Captain Pringle, their friend and comrade in Fort WilliamHenry, who had elected to remain with the garrison when the othertwo took part in a sortie and cut themselves a path to the forest. Had he remained with them, he might have fared better; he would atleast have been spared the horrors of a scene which would now bebranded forever upon his memory in characters of fire. 

What had happened to that ill-fated fort Fritz and Roche knewlittle as yet. They had heard the tremendous firing which hadfollowed whilst they remained in hiding during the day the dawn ofwhich had seen the last desperate sortie. They had at night seenflames which spoke of Indian campfires all round the place, andfrom the complete cessation of firing after two they concluded thatterms of surrender had been made. They had meant to wander deeperand deeper into the forest, out of reach of possible peril fromprowling Indians; but they had been unable to tear themselves awaywithout learning more of the fate of the hapless fort and itsgarrison. 

At daybreak--or rather with the, first grey of dawn--they hadcrept through the brushwood as stealthily as Indians themselves, only to be made aware shortly that something horrible and terriblewas going on. Yells and war whoops and the screech of Indian voicesrose and clamoured through the silence of the forest, mingled withthe shrieks of victims brutally massacred, and the shouts andentreaties of the French officers, who ran hither and thitherseeking to restrain the brutal and savage treachery of theirunworthy allies. 

Roche had lost his head, and would have rushed madly upon the sceneof bloodshed and confusion; and Fritz must needs have followed, forhe was not one to let a comrade go to his death alone: but beforethey had proceeded far, they met their comrade Pringle dashingthrough the forest, covered with wounds, and pursued by half adozen screeching Indians, and in a moment they had sprung to hisrescue. 

With a yell as fierce in its way as that of the Indians themselvesthey sprang upon the painted savages, and taking them unawares, they killed every one before the dusky and drunken sons of theforest had recovered from their surprise at being thus met andopposed. 

But plainly there was no time to lose. The forest was ringing withthe awful war whoop. Their comrade was in no state for furtherfighting; he was almost too far gone even for flight. 

They seized him one by each arm; they dashed along through thetangled forest by an unfrequented track known to Fritz, halfleading, half carrying him the while. The din and the horridclamour grew fainter in their ears. No pursuing footsteps gave themcause to pause to defend themselves. The centre of excitement roundthe fort drew the human wolves, as carrion draws vultures. Theforest was dim and silent and deserted as the fugitives pursuedtheir way through it. 

From time to time the wounded man dropped some words full of horrorand despair. Young Roche, new to these fearful border wars, wasalmost overcome by this broken narrative, realizing the fearfulfate which had overtaken so many of his brave comrades of the pastweeks. 

When at last they reached the little cave for which Fritz washeading, and where they felt that for the moment at least they weresafe, he could only throw himself along the ground in an agony ofgrief and physical exhaustion: whilst the hardier Fritz bathed thewounds of their unfortunate comrade, binding them up with no smallskill, and refreshing him with draughts of water from the pool hardby, which was all the sick man desired at this moment. 

All three comrades were exhausted to the uttermost, and for a longwhile nothing broke the silence of the dim place save thelong-drawn, gasping sobs of the lad. Gradually these died away intosilence, and Fritz saw that both his companions slept--the fitfulsleep of overwrought nature. Yet he was thankful even for that. Moving softly about he lighted a fire, and having captured one ofthe wild turkeys which were plentiful in the forest at that season, he proceeded to prepare a meal for them when they should awake. 

Roche slept on and on, as the young will do when nature has beentried to her extreme limits; but Pringle presently opened his eyes, and looked feebly about him. 

Fritz had a little weak broth to offer him by that time, and afterdrinking it the Captain looked a little less wan and ghastly. 

"Where are we?" he asked, in a weak voice; "and how many are thereof us?"

"We have only Roche with us. We have been in the forest since thesortie when we cut our way out. We met you the next day with half adozen Indians at your heels. We know nothing save what you havespoken of treachery and massacre. Can it be true that the Frenchpermitted such abominations? The forest was ringing with the Indianwar whoops and the screams of their wretched victims!"

A shudder ran through Pringle's frame. 

"It is too true, " he said; "it is horrible--unspeakably horrible!Yet we must not blame the French too much. They did what they couldto prevent it. Indeed, I heard the Marquis de Montcalm himselfbidding the Indians kill him, but spare the English garrison, whichhad surrendered, and had been promised all the honours of war and asafe escort to Fort Edward. "

"If men will stoop to use fiends to do their work, " said Fritzsternly, "they must expect to be disgraced and defied by thesefiends, over whom they have no sort of influence. If men will useunworthy instruments, they must take the consequences. "

"Yes; but the consequences have been the massacre of our haplesssick and wounded, and scenes of horror at thought of which my bloodcurdles. They have fallen upon us, not upon them. "

"For the moment, yes, " said Fritz, still in the same stern tone;"but, Pringle, there is a God above us who looks down upon thesethings, and who will not suffer such deeds to pass unavenged. Weare His children; we bear His name. We look to Him in the darkmoments of despair and overthrow. I am sure that He will hear andanswer. He will not suffer these crimes against humanity andcivilization to go unpunished. He will provide the instrument forthe overthrow of the power which can deal thus treacherously, eventhough the treachery may be that of their allies, and not theirown. It is they who employ such unworthy tools. They must bear theresponsibility when these things happen. "

There was a long silence between the two men then, after whichPringle said:

"If they had only sent us reinforcements! I know that we shall hearlater on that the reserves were on their way. Why do we doeverything a month or more too late? It has been the ruin of ourwestern frontier from first to last. We are never ready!"

"No; that has been the mistake so far, but I think it will notalways be so. There is an able man in England now whose hands areon the helm; and though full power is not his as yet, he can andwill do much, they say. Even the more astute of the French begin todread the name of Pitt. I think that the tide will turn presently, and we shall see our victorious foes flying before us like chaffbefore the wind. "

"You think that?"

"I do. I have seen and heard much of the methods of France in thesouth--her ambition, her presumption, her weakness. Here in thenorth she has a firmer grip, and Canada is her stronghold. But ifonce we can shake her power there, all will be gone. They say thatPitt knows this, and that his eyes are upon the Western world. France has her hands full at home. A great war is raging in Europe. A few well-planted blows, ably directed from beyond the sea byEngland herself, might do untold harm to her western provinces. Ihope to live to see the day when those blows will be given. "

Young Roche began to stir in his sleep, and presently sat up, bewildered and perplexed; but soon recollection swept over him, andhe stumbled to his feet, and joined the other two by the fire. 

"Tell us all, " he said, as they began to think of supper; for heand Fritz had scarcely broken their fast all day, and nature wasnow asserting her needs. "I would learn all, horrible though it is. Tell us--did Fort William Henry surrender?"

"Yes; there was nothing else for it. New batteries opened upon us, as well as the old ones. There was a great breach in the wall whichcould have been carried by assault at any moment, and our guns wereall burst, save a few of the smaller ones. They gave us lenientterms. We were to march out with the honours of war, and keep oneof our guns; they were to give us safe escort to Fort Edward; wewere to take our baggage with us. The Marquis showed himself agenerous foe--of him we have reason to think well; but the Indians, and even the Canadians--well. I will come to that in its turn. Thank Heaven, I did not see too much; what I did see will haunt meto my dying day!"

The lad's eyes dilated. It was terrible; but he wanted to hear all. 

"All was arranged. The French soldiers marched in and tookpossession. We marched out to the intrenched camp to join ourcomrades there, who, of course, had been included in thecapitulation. In the charge of the French we left our sick, whocould not march. Hardly had we gone before the Indians swarmed inin search of plunder, and finding little--for, as you know, therewas little to find--they instantly began to murder the sick, rushing hither and thither, yelling wildly, waving scalps in theirhands!"

"And the French allowed it!" exclaimed Roche, setting his teethhard; for he had friends and comrades lying sick at the fort whenhe left it. 

"It was done so quickly they might not have known. One missionarywas there, and rushed hither and thither seeking to stay them; buthe might as well have spoken to the wild waves of the sea in astorm. But that was not all. In an hour or so they were clamouringand swarming all round the camp, and the French soldiers told offfor our protection either could not or would not keep them out. Montcalm, in great anxiety, came over himself seeking to restoreorder; but the Indians were drunk with blood, and would not listento him. He begged us to stave in our rum barrels, which wasinstantly done; but the act provoked the savages, and they pouncedupon our baggage, which had been reserved to us by the terms of thetreaty. We appealed to the Marquis; but he advised us to give itup. 

"'I am doing all I can, ' he said to Colonel Monro; 'but I shall beonly too happy if I can prevent a massacre!'"

"Horrible!" ejaculated the young lieutenant. "Oh, better, farbetter, to have held the fort and perished in open fight than to beset upon in cold blood by those fiends!"

"Yes, " quoth Pringle sternly; "that is what we felt and said. Butit was too late then. The Indians were all amongst us. They werehere, there, and everywhere. They got hold of the long hair of thewomen and the terrified children, and drew their scalping knivesand menaced them till they shrieked and cried aloud in abjectterror--"

Pringle paused; a spasm of horror shook him. After a brief pause herecommenced in more rapid tones:

"Why prolong the tale? it has lasted already too long. No properguard was provided for us. Why I cannot tell, for the Marquis wastruly horrified at what was going on. Perhaps he thought the stepshe had taken were sufficient, or that the rage of the Indians wasappeased; but be that as it might, when we marched out towards FortEdward, we had no efficient protection, and the Indians were allround us, snatching at caps and coats, and forcing the soldiers togive them rum from their canteens, every drop of which seemed toadd fuel to the fire. "

"And you had no escort?"

"None of any efficacy. Monro, our gallant Colonel, went back to theFrench camp to protest and petition; but while he was gone thespark kindled. 

"It was the Anenaki chief who first raised the war whoop, and theeffect was instantaneous. They sprang upon us like fiends. Theyseized the shrieking women and children and bore them off to thewoods, killing and scalping them as they ran. We had guns, but noammunition, and were almost exhausted with what we had beenthrough. 

"In a moment all was a scene of indescribable horror and confusion. I can only speak of what I saw myself. I was set upon by thesavages; but I could give blow for blow. They sprang after othersless able to defend themselves. I saw a little lad rush screamingthrough the wood. I at once ran after him, and knocked down hispursuer. He clung about me, begging me to save him. I took hishand, and we dashed into the forest together. 

"As we did so, I was aware that some French officers, with theMarquis de Montcalm, were rushing up to try to appease the tumult;but I doubt me if their words produced any effect. The boy and Iran on together. Then out dashed a dozen or more warriors upon us, with scalps in their hands--a sight horrible to behold. I set theboy against a tree, and stood before him; but they were all roundus. I felt his despairing, clutching hands torn from round my waistwhilst I was hacking and hewing down the men in front. I heard theshriek of agony and the gurgling cry as the tomahawk descended uponhis head. 

"I knew that he was dead, and the rage which filled me drove me onand on with the strength of madness. I had lost the sense ofdirection. I only knew that I had burst through the ring of myassailants, and that I was running my headlong course with thewhole pack of them yelling at my heels. Now and again a cry fromright or left would divert one or another of my pursuers, but someof them held resolutely on, and I knew that my strength musteventually give out, and that only a horrible death awaited me. 

"Then it was that I heard shouts in the English tongue, and knewthat some person or persons had come to my rescue. But my eyes werefull of blood, and my senses were well nigh failing. It was only bydegrees I came to know who had saved my life. I shall never forgetit, though I cannot say what is in my heart. "

He held out his hand first to one and then to the other of hiscomrades, and they grasped it warmly. Roche lifted his right handand shook it upwards. 

"May Heaven give me the chance to revenge this day's work upon thefoes of England! May the time come when France shall drink deep ofthat cup of suffering and humiliation which she has caused us todrink withal; and may I be there to see!"

And yet, before many months had passed, Roche and his companionshad reason to know that their foes could be chivalrous and generousto an enemy in distress. 

The comrades lay in close hiding for many days, until the work ofdemolishing the hapless fort had been accomplished, and the French, together with their savage allies, had withdrawn back to their ownlines at Ticonderoga. 

There was no dash made upon Fort Edward, as might well have beenthe case. Satisfied with what he had accomplished, and under ordersto permit the Canadian troops to return home in time to gather inthe harvest, the Marquis de Montcalm withdrew his forces when histask was finished. Possibly he felt that victory was too dearlypurchased at the cost of such horrors as had followed the captureof Fort William Henry. 

Pringle recovered from his wounds, which, though numerous, werenone of them severe. The spell of rest was welcome to all after thefatigues and privations of the siege. Fritz was an expert huntsman, and kept their larder well stocked; and when they were ready totravel, he was able to lead them safely through the forest, towardsthe haunts where Rogers and his Rangers were likely to be met with. 

It was upon a clear September afternoon that they first met whitemen, or indeed human beings of any kind; for they had sedulouslyavoided falling in with Indians, and the loneliness of the foresthad become a little oppressive to Pringle and Roche, although theywere eager to learn the arts of woodcraft, and were proving aptpupils. They were both going to volunteer to join Rogers' bold bandof Rangers, for they had grown almost disheartened at the regulararmy service, where one blunder and disaster was invariably cappedby another; and the life of the Rangers did at least give scope forpersonal daring and adventure, and might enable them to strike ablow now and again at the enemy who had wrought them such woe. 

They heard themselves hailed one day out of the heart of the forestby a cheery English voice. 

"What ho! who goes there?"

"Friend to Rogers and his Rangers!" called back Fritz, in theformula of the forest, and the next minute a bronzed andbright-faced, handsome man had sprung lightly out of the thicket, and stood before them. 

He was a stranger to Fritz, but something in his dress and generalaspect proclaimed him to be a Ranger, and he grasped Fritz by thehand warmly. 

"You come in good time to give us news. We have been farafield--almost as far as Niagara itself. We hear rumours ofdisaster and treachery; but hitherto we have had no certaintidings. Is it true that Fort William Henry has fallen?"

The tale was told once again, other Rangers crowding round to hear. Pringle was naturally the spokesman, and Fritz, singling out fromthe group a man whom he had known before, asked him who thegallant-looking stranger was who seemed like the leader of a band. 

"That is Lord Howe, " was the answer. "He came out from England tofight the French; but the expedition to Louisbourg came to nothingthrough delay and mismanagement. He landed, and whilst waiting forfurther orders from home he has joined the Rangers, in order tolearn their methods of fighting. Never was hardier or braver man, or one more cheerful and blithe. Even the stern Rogers himselfunbends when he is near. He has been the very life of our partysince he has joined us. "

Fritz soon found that this was no exaggeration. Howe was a splendidcomrade and Ranger, full of courage, the hardiest of the hardy, never failing in spirits whatever were the hardships of the life, and showing such aptitude for generalship and command that alreadyhe had made his mark amongst the hardy Rangers, and was entrustedwith enterprises of difficulty and danger. 

It was not much that could be done against the foe with theinclement winter season approaching. The snow fell early. TheCanadians and regulars had gone into winter quarters; but there wasstill a garrison in Ticonderoga, and to harass and despoil thatgarrison was the pastime of the Rangers. They stole beneath thewalls upon the frozen lake. They carried off cattle, and madebanquets off their carcasses. If they could not do with all themeat themselves, they would leave the carcasses at the foot of thewalls, sometimes with mocking letters attached to the horns. 

Thus, after a more than usually successful raid, when they hadtaken two prisoners and driven off a number of head of cattle, theytied to the horns of one of the slain beasts the following words, written large for all to read. 

"I am obliged to you, sir, for the rest you have allowed me totake, and for the fresh meat you have supplied me with. I shalltake good care of my prisoners. My compliments to the Marquis deMontcalm. 

"--(Signed)

"ROGERS. "

But in spite of these successful raids, a misfortune was in storefor the gallant Rangers in the early spring which broke up andscattered their band for that season, and spread throughout thedistrict the false report of Rogers' death. 

Captain Hebecourt was commanding the French at Ticonderoga, and inMarch he received large reinforcements of Canadians and Indians, and the latter instantly detected recent marks of snowshoes in thevicinity betraying the neighbourhood of white men. An attack wastherefore organized to try to rid the place of the pestilentRangers, as the French called them; whilst, as it so happened, theRangers had no knowledge of the reinforcements which had come in tothe fort. 

Rogers' fault was ever a daring rashness, and when one day he andhis little band saw the advance of a party of Indians, he drew hismen under cover and greeted them with a hot and fatal fire. 

But this was only the advance guard. Unknown and unguessed at byRogers, the large body behind was approaching, and the next momentthe whole place was echoing with triumphant yells, as the pursuingRangers were met by a compact force outnumbering them by four toone, who sprang furiously upon them, trying to hack them to pieces. 

Rogers, gallantly backed by Lord Howe, who had all the instinct ofthe true general, recalled them hastily and formed them up on theslope of a hill, where they made a gallant stand, and drove backthe enemy again and again. But outnumbered as they were, it was aterrible struggle, and Ranger after Ranger dropped at his post;whilst at last the cry was raised that the foe had surrounded themupon the rear, and nothing was left them but to take to the forestin flight. 

"To the woods, men, to the woods!" shouted Rogers. "Leave me, andevery man for himself!"

Indeed it was soon impossible for any party to keep together. Itwas just one dash from tree to tree for bare life, seeking to evadethe wily foe, and seeing brave comrades drop at every turn. 

Rogers, Howe, and about twenty fine fellows were making a runningfight for it along the crest of the ridge. Pringle, Roche, andFritz were separated from these, but kept together, and by the useof all their strength and sagacity succeeded in eluding the Indiansand hiding themselves in the snow-covered forest. 

All was desolation around them. A heavy snowstorm gathered andburst. They were hopelessly separated from their comrades, andFritz, who was their guide in woodcraft, was wounded in the head, and in a strangely dazed condition. 

"I can take you to Rogers' camp, nevertheless, " he kept repeating. "We must not lie down, or we shall die. But I can find the road--Ican find the road. I know the forest in all its aspects; I shallnot lose the way. "

It was a terrible night. They had no food but a little ginger whichPringle chanced to have in his pocket, and a bit of a sausage thatRoche had secreted about him. The snow drifted in their faces. Theywere wearied to death, yet dared not lie down; and though alwayshoping to reach the spot where Fritz declared that Rogers wascertain to be found, they discovered, when the grey light ofmorning came, that they had only fetched a circle, and were at theplace they had started from, in perilous proximity to the Frenchfort. 

Yet as they gazed at one another in mute despair a more terriblething happened. The Indian war whoop sounded loud in their ears, and a band of savages dashed out upon them. Before they couldattempt resistance in their numbed state, they were surrounded andcarried off captive. 

"We can die like men; that is all that is left to us!" saidPringle, pressing up to Roche to whisper in his ear. "Heaven grantthey kill us quickly; it is the only grace we can hope for now. "

Dizzy and faint and exhausted, they were hurried along by theircaptors they knew not whither. They had come out from the forest, and the sun was beginning to shine round them, when they suddenlyheard a voice shouting out something the meaning of which theycould not catch; and the next moment a body of white men camerunning up wearing the familiar uniform of French soldiers andofficers. 

"Uncle!" cried a lad's clear voice, speaking in French, a languageperfectly intelligible to Fritz, "that tall man there is the onewho saved Corinne and me in the forest that day when we weresurrounded and nearly taken by the Rangers. Get him away from theIndians; they shall not have him! He saved us from peril once; wemust save him now. "

"Assuredly, my son, " came the response, in a full, sonorous voice;and Fritz, rallying his failing powers, shook off for a moment themists which seemed to enwrap him, and saw that a fine-looking manof benevolent aspect, wearing the habit of an ecclesiastic, wasspeaking earnestly to the Indians who had them in their hands, whilst several French officers and soldiers had formed up roundthem. 

There was some quick and rather excited talk between the Abbe andthe dusky savages; but he appeared to prevail with them at length, and Fritz heard the order given:

"Take these men into the fort, and give them every care andattention. I shall come later to see how my orders have beencarried out. "

The men saluted. They cut the cords which bound the prisoners. Theyled them away kindly enough. 

The lad who had first spoken pressed up to the side of Fritz. 

"I will take care of you, and my uncle will heal your wound. Youremember how Corinne promised some day to return the good favourthat you did us. You are our guests; you are not prisoners. Myuncle, the Abbe, has said so, and no one will dare to dispute hisword. He is the Abbe de Messonnier, whom all the world loves andreveres. "

Chapter 3: Albany. 

"You are not our prisoner, " said Colin; "you and your friends areour guests, welcome to stay or go as you will. Only we hope anddesire that you will not go forth into the forest again until thesnow has melted, and you are sound and whole once more. "

The bright-faced boy was seated beside the bed whereon lay Fritz, who felt like a man awakening from a long, strange, and ratherfrightful dream. He had become unconscious almost immediately aftertheir rescue three days before, and had only now recovered the useof his faculties and the memory of recent events. 

"You had a bad wound on the side of your head when we found you, "explained Colin. "My uncle, the Abbe, says that had it been leftmuch longer untended you must have died. He is an excellent surgeonhimself, having learned much as to the treatment of wounds andbruises and sicknesses of all kinds. He is well pleased with itsappearance now, and with your state of health. He says that youRangers are marvellous tough customers, whether as soldiers or aspatients. You take a great deal of killing!"

Fritz smiled in response to the boy's bright look, but there wasanxiety in his face too. 

"Can you tell me aught of the Rangers?" he said. "You, doubtless, know how we were set upon and dispersed a few days back. "

"Yes; and our Captain of the fort is right glad at it, " said theboy, "for Rogers led him a dog's life with his raids and robberies. But all is fair in love and war, and it is not for us to complainof what we ourselves have provoked and should do in likecircumstances. Nevertheless there is rejoicing at Ticonderoga thatthe Rangers are dispersed and broken for the present. We werebeginning to fear lest they should take away from us all ourprovision and cut off our supplies. "

"Do you know how many were slain?"

"No; but it must have been a considerable number. I am sorrymyself. I delight in all brave deeds of daring, and it is theRangers who have shown themselves the heroes of this campaign. Atfirst they said Rogers himself had been killed, but that has sincebeen contradicted. For myself I do not believe it. The dead werecarefully examined by one who knew Rogers well, and he declaresthere is no corpse that in any way resembles him; and othersdeclare that he was seen escaping to the forest, fighting everyinch of the way, with a resolute little band around him whom nonecared to follow. "

"I myself saw something of that, " answered Fritz; "but it all seemslike a dream of long ago. Tell me now of those who were withme--Captain Pringle and the lad Roche. Are they here, and unhurt ofthe Indians?"

"They are sound and well, and though sorely exhausted by cold andhunger and fatigue when they were brought in, are fully recoverednow. Captain Pringle is quite a hero with us, for he has told usall the story of that disgraceful and dishonourable day of Augustlast when the laurels of France were sorely tarnished by thetreacherous villainy of her Indian allies! Believe me, friendFritz, we men of France deplore that massacre, and cry shame uponourselves and our countrymen for not taking sterner measures torepress it. For that reason alone, as mine uncle says, we owe toyou and to your companions every honour and courtesy which we canshow. If we have sometimes to blush for the conduct of our allies, we can show that we are capable of better things ourselves; and ifwe can make reparation ever so little, you will not find usbackward in doing it. "

This indeed seemed to be the feeling of those within the fort. Although these men were Rangers, part of the band which hadharassed them so sorely through the winter months, the garrisonreceived them with open arms, ministered to their wants, and viedwith one another in making them at home. 

The influence of the venerable Abbe might have had something to dowith this; but it was greatly due to the chivalry of the Frenchnature, and to the eager desire to show kindness to those who hadwitnessed and suffered from that awful tragedy which had followedupon the surrender of Fort William Henry, which they felt to be alasting disgrace to their cause. 

Those of the officers who had been there averred that they couldnever forget the horror of those two days; and the French surgeonwho had taken over the English sick and wounded, and yet saw thembutchered before his eyes ere he could even call for help, hadnever been the same man since. 

So when Fritz was able to rise from his bed and join hiscompanions, he found himself in pleasant enough quarters, surrounded by friendly faces, and made much of by all in the fort. He, being able to speak French fluently, made himself a greatfavorite with the men, and he enjoyed many long conversations withthe Abbe, who was a man of much acumen and discernment, and sawmore clearly the course which events were likely to take than didthose amongst whom he lived. 

From him Fritz learned that affairs in Canada were looking verygrave. There were constant difficulties arising between the variousofficials there, and the most gross corruption existed in financialaffairs, so that there was a rottenness that was eating like acanker into the heart of the colony, despite its outward aspect ofprosperity. France was burdened by foreign wars and could do littlefor her dependencies beyond the sea; whilst England was beginningto awake from her apathy, and she had at her helm now a man whounderstood as no statesman there had done before him the value toher of these lands beyond the sea. 

"I have always maintained, " the Abbe would say, "that in spite ofall her blunders, which blunders and tardinesses are stillcontinuing, there is a spirit in your English colonies which willone day rise triumphant, and make you a foe to be feared anddreaded. You move with the times; we stand still. You teach andlearn independence and self government; we depend wholly upon aKing who cares little for us and a country that is engrossed inother matters, and has little thought to spend upon our perils andour troubles. You are growing, and, like a young horse or bullock, you do not know yet how to use your strength. You are unbroken toyoke and halter; you waste your energy in plunging and butting whenyou should be utilizing it to some good end. Yet mark my words, theday is coming when you will learn to answer to the rein; when youwill use your strength reasonably and for a great end and thenshall we have cause to tremble before you!"

Fritz listened and partly understood, and could admire the man whospoke so boldly even when he depreciated the power of his ownpeople. He grew to love and revere the Abbe not a little, and whenthe day came for them to say farewell, it was with real sorrow hespoke his adieu. 

"You have been very good to us, my father, " he said. "I hope theday may come when we may be able to show our gratitude. "

"Like enough it will, my son, " answered the Abbe gently; "I havelittle doubt that it will. If not to me, yet to my children andcountrymen. For the moment the laurels of victory remain in ourhands; but the tide may some day turn. If so, then remember to bemerciful and gentle to those who will be in your power. I thinkthat the English have ever shown themselves generous foes; I thinkthey will continue to show themselves such in the hour of victory. "

It was with hearts much cheered and strengthened that the comradeswent forth from Ticonderoga. Colin and a few French soldiersaccompanied them for some distance. 

They did not propose to try to seek Rogers or his scatteredRangers; there was no knowing where they would now be found. Fritzhad decided to push back to Fort Edward, and so to Albany, thequaint Dutch settlement which had been the basis of recentoperations, being the town nearest to the western frontier at thispoint. There they would be certain to get news of what was going onin the country, and for a short time it would be pleasant to dwellamid the haunts of men, instead of in these remote fastnesses ofthe forest. 

"I hope we shall meet again, " said Colin, as he held Fritz's handin a last clasp. "I am not altogether French. I find that I canlove the English well. Quebec will be my home before long. Corinneis there already, and my uncle and I will return there shortly. Itis a fine city, such as you have hardly seen in your wanderings sofar. I would I could show it you. Some say the English have an eyeupon it, as the key to Canada. In sooth I think they would find ita hard nut to crack. We of the city call it impregnable. But comeyou in peace there, and I will show it you with joy. "

They parted with a smile and a warm clasp, little guessing how theywould meet next. 

The journey to Albany was uneventful. The travellers met with nomisadventures, and upon a sunny April evening drew near to thepleasant little town, smiling in the soft sunshine of a remarkablywarm evening. 

It presented a singularly peaceful appearance. The fort was on thehill behind, and seemed to stand sentinel for the little townshipit was there to protect. The wide grassy road ran down towards theriver, its row of quaint Dutch houses broken by a group of finerand more imposing buildings, including the market, the guard house, the town hall, and two churches. 

The houses were not built in rows, but each stood in its owngarden, possessing its well, its green paddock, and its ownovershadowing tree or trees. They were quaintly built, withtimbered fronts, and great projecting porches where the inhabitantsgathered at the close of the day, to discuss the news and to gossipover local or provincial affairs. 

As the travellers entered the long, wide street, their eyes lookedupon a pleasant, homely scene--the cows straying homeward, makingmusic with their bells, stopping each at her own gate to be milked;the children hanging around, porringer in hand, waiting for theevening meal; matrons and the elder men gathered in groups roundthe doors and in the porches; young men wrestling or arguing ineager groups; and the girls gathered together chatting andlaughing, throwing smiling glances towards their brothers andlovers as they strove for victory in some feat of skill orstrength. 

It was difficult to believe that so peaceful a scene could exist ina country harassed by war, or that these settlers could carry ontheir lives in so serene and untroubled a fashion with the dreadwar cloud hovering in the sky above. 

There was one house which stood a little apart from the others, andwore a rather more imposing aspect, although, like all the rest, itwas of a quaint and home-like appearance. It stood a little backfrom the main streets and its porch was wider and larger, whilstthe garden in front was laid out with a taste and care whichbespoke both skill and a love for nature's products. 

The travellers were slowly wending their way past this house, debating within themselves where to stop for the night, and justbeginning to attract the attention of the inhabitants, when a voicehailed them eagerly from the wide porch. 

"Fritz Neville, or I'm a Dutchman myself! And Pringle and Roche aswell! Why, man, we thought we had left you dead in the forest. Wesaw you cut off from us and surrounded. We never had a hope ofseeing you alive again. This is a happy meeting, in truth!"

Fritz started at the sound of his name, and the next minute hadmade a quick forward hound, his face shining all over. 

It was Lord Howe who had hailed him--the bold, joyous youngViscount beloved by all who knew him. The comrades shook handsagain and again as they eagerly exchanged greetings. 

"Oh, we got away to the forest, Rogers and Stark and I, and a scoreor more. Other stragglers kept dropping in and joining us, and manymore, as we found later, had made their way back to Fort Edward. But nowhere could we learn news of you. Come in, come in; you willbe welcomed warmly by my kind hostess, Mrs. Schuyler. She has beenthe friend and mother of all English fugitives in their destitutionand need. I have a home with her here for the present, till thearmy from England and the levies from the provinces arrive. Comein, good comrades, and do not fear; there will be a warm welcomehere for you. "

They followed Howe to the house, and found that he had not deceivedthem as to the welcome they would receive. Colonel Schuyler was agreat man in Albany, and his wife was deservedly respected andbeloved. Just now the Colonel was absent on duties connected withthe coming campaign, in which Albany was becoming keenlyinterested. The neighbouring provinces, particularly that ofMassachusetts, had awakened at last from lethargy, and theinhabitants were bestirring themselves with zeal, if not alwayswith discretion. The Colonel, who had warmly embraced the Englishcause, was doing what he could there to raise arms and men, and hiswife at home was playing her part in caring for the fugitives whokept passing through on their way from the forest, both after themassacre at Fort William Henry, and after the rout of the Rangers. 

Rogers himself was too restless a being to remain in the haunts ofcivilization. He and a few picked men were again off to the forest. But Stark, who had been wounded, and Lord Howe, who was awaitingorders from England as to his position in command during theapproaching campaign, remained as guests with Mrs. Schuyler; andshe at once begged that Fritz and his companions would do the same, since her house was roomy, and she desired to do all in her powerfor those who were about to risk their lives in the endeavour tosuppress the terrible Indian raids, and to crush the aggressions ofthose who used these raids as a means of obtaining their ownaggrandizement. 

It was a pleasant house to stay in, and Mrs. Schuyler was like amother to them all. For Lord Howe she entertained a warm affection, which he requited with a kindred feeling. 

All was excitement in Albany now. General Abercromby was on the wayto take the command of the forces; but Lord Howe was to have aposition of considerable importance, and it was whispered by thosewho knew what went on behind the scenes that it was to his skilland courage and military prowess that Pitt really looked. Hereceived private dispatches by special messengers, and his brightyoung face was full of purpose and lofty courage. 

The Massachusetts levies began to assemble, and Howe took the rawlads in hand, and began to drill them with a wonderful success. Butit was no play work to be under such a commander. They had come foronce rather well provided with clothing and baggage; but Howelaughed aloud at the thought of soldiers encumbering themselveswith more impedimenta than was actually needful. 

The long, heavy-skirted coats which the soldiers wore, bothregulars and provincials, excited his ridicule, as did also thelong hair plaited into a queue behind and tied with ribbons. 

His own hair he had long since cut short to his head--a fashionspeedily imitated by officers and men alike, who all adored him. Hesuggested that skirtless coats would be more easy to march in thanthe heavy ones in vogue, and forthwith all the skirts were cut off, and the coats became short jackets, scarcely reaching the waist. 

The men laughed at their droll appearance, but felt the freedom andincreased marching power; and as Lord Howe wore just such a coathimself, who could complain? He wore leggings of leather, such aswere absolutely needful to forest journeys, and soon his men didthe same. No women were to be allowed to follow his contingent; andas for washing of clothes, why, Lord Howe was seen going down tothe river side to wash his own, and the fashion thus set wasfollowed enthusiastically by his men. 

If their baggage was cut down to a minimum, they were each orderedto carry thirty pounds of meal in a bag; so that it was soon seenthat Lord Rowe's contingent could not only walk further and fasterin march than any other, but that it would be independent of thesupply trains for pretty nearly a month. They carried their ownbread material, and the forest would always supply meat. 

Fritz was ever forward to carry out the wishes and act as the righthand of the hardy Brigadier; for that was Lord Howe's militaryrank. Pringle and Roche served under him, too, and there was a warmbond growing up betwixt officers and men, and a feeling ofenthusiasm which seemed to them like an augury of victory to come. 

"Our business is to fight the foe--to do our duty whether we liveor die, " Howe would say to his men. "We have failed before; we mayfail again. Never mind; we shall conquer at last. With results thesoldier has nothing to do. Remember that. He does his duty. Hesticks to his post. He obeys his commands. Do that, men; andwhether we conquer or die, we shall have done our duty, and that isall our country asks of us. "

And now the long days of June had come, and all were eager for theopening campaign. Ticonderoga was to be attacked. To wrest from theFrench some of their strong holds on the western English border--tobreak their power in the sight of the Indians--was a thing that wasabsolutely necessary to the life of the New England colonies andthe other provinces under English rule. Fort Edward still remainedto her, though Oswego and William Henry had fallen and weredemolished. The capture of Ticonderoga would be a blow to Francewhich would weaken her immensely, and lower her prestige with theIndians, which was now a source of great danger to the Englishcolonists. 

The story of the massacre after the surrender of Fort William Henryhad made a profound impression throughout the English-speakingprovinces, and had awakened a longing after vengeance which initself had seemed almost like an earnest of victory. And now theregular troops began to muster and pour in, and Albany was allexcitement and enthusiasm; for the Dutch had by that time come tohave a thorough distrust of France, and to desire the victory ofthe English arms only less ardently than the English themselves. 

Mrs. Schuyler, as usual, opened her doors wide to receive as manyof the officers as she was able whilst the final preparations werebeing made. And upon a soft midsummer evening Lord Howe appeared inthe supper room, bringing with him two fine-looking officers--onegrey headed, the other young and ardent--and introducing them tohis hostess and those assembled round the table as Major DuncanCampbell, the Laird of Inverawe, in Scotland; with his sonAlexander, a Lieutenant of the Highland force. 

Young Alexander was seated next to Fritz at table, and began aneager conversation with him. Talk surged to and fro that night. Excitement prevailed everywhere. But Fritz observed that MajorCampbell sat very grave and silent, and that even Lord Howe'sefforts to draw him into conversation proved unavailing. 

Mrs. Schuyler also tried, but with little success, to make theveteran talk. He answered with grave courtesy all remarks made tohim, but immediately lapsed into a sombre abstraction, from whichit seemed difficult to rouse him. 

At the end of the supper Lord Howe rose to his feet, made a dashinglittle speech to the company, full of fire and enthusiasm, andproposed the toast:

"Success to the expedition against Ticonderoga!"

Fritz happened to be looking at the grave, still face of MajorCampbell, and as these words were spoken he saw a sudden spasm passacross it. The soldier rose suddenly to his feet, took up his glassfor a moment, put it down untasted, and with a bow to his hostesspushed aside his chair, and strode from the room in an access ofvisible emotion. 

Lord Howe looked after him a moment, and draining his glass, seemedabout to go after the guest; but young Alexander, from the otherside of the table, made him a sign, and he sat down again. 

The incident, however, seemed to act like the breaking up of thesupper party, and the guests rose and left the table, dispersingquickly to look after bag or baggage or some last duty, till onlyMrs. Schuyler, Lord Howe, Fritz, and Lieutenant Campbell were leftin the supper room. 

It was then that young Alexander looked round and said, "It was thename you spoke which affected my father so strangely--the fatalname of Ticonderoga!"

"Fatal! how fatal?" asked Lord Howe quickly. 

"You have not heard the strange story, then?"

"No; what story?"

"It concerns my father; it is the cause of his melancholy. When youhave heard it you will not perhaps wonder, though to you theincident may seem incredible. "

"I have learned that there are many things in this world which arewonderful and mysterious, yet which it is folly to disbelieve, "answered Howe. "Let us hear your story, Campbell. I would not havespoken words to hurt your father could I have known. "

"I am sure you would not; but hear the tale, and you will know whythat name sounds in his ears like a death knell. 

"Long years ago it must have been when I was but a little child--myfather was sitting alone over the fire in our home at Inverawe; awild, strange place that I love as I love no other spot on earth. He was in the great hall, and, suddenly there came a knocking atthe door, loud and imperative. He opened, and there stood a manwithout, wild and dishevelled, who told how he had slain a man in afray, and was flying from his pursuers. 

"'Give me help and shelter!' he implored; and my father drew him inand closed the door, and promised to hide him. 'Swear on your dirknot to give me up!' he implored; and my father swore, though withhim his word was ever his bond. He hid the fugitive in a secretplace, and hardly had he done so before there was another loudknocking at the door. 

"This time it was the pursuers, hot on the track of the murderer. 'He has slain your cousin Donald, ' they told him. 'He cannot be faraway. We are hunting for him. Can you help us?' My father was in agreat strait; but he remembered his oath, and though he sent outservants to help in the search, he would not give up to justice theman who had trusted him. "

"And he was right, " said Lord Howe quickly; "I honour and respecthim for that. "

"It may be so, yet it is against the traditions of our house andrace, " answered Alexander gravely; "and that night my father wokesuddenly from a troubled dream to see the ghost of his murderedkinsman standing at his bedside. The spectre spoke to him in urgenttones:

"'Inverawe, Inverawe, blood has been shed; shield not themurderer!'

"Unable to sleep, my father rose, and went to the fugitive and toldhim he could not shelter him longer. 'You swore on your dirk!'replied the miserable man; and my father, admitting the oath not tobetray him, led him away in the darkness and hid him in a mountaincave known to hardly any save himself. 

"That night once more the spectre came and spoke the same words, 'Inverawe, Inverawe, blood has been shed; shield not the murderer!'The vision troubled my father greatly. At daybreak he went oncemore to the cave; but the man was gone--whither he never knew. Hewent home, and again upon the third night the ghostly figure stoodbeside him; but this time he was less stern of voice and aspect. 

"He spoke these words, 'Farewell, Inverawe; farewell, till we meetat Ticonderoga. ' Then it vanished, and he has never seen it since. "

"Ticonderoga!" repeated Lord Howe, and looked steadily atAlexander, who proceeded:

"That was the word. My father had never heard it before. The soundof it was so strange that he wrote it down; and when I was a youthof perhaps seventeen summers, and had become a companion to him, hetold me the whole story, and we pondered together as to what andwhere Ticonderoga could be. Years had passed since he saw thevision, and he had never heard the name from that day. I had notheard it either--then. "

The faces of the listeners were full of grave interest. Thestrangeness of the coincidence struck them all. 

"And then?" queried Howe, after a silence. 

"Then came the news of this war, and some Highland regiments wereordered off. My father and I were amongst those to go. We were longin hearing what our destination was to be. We had landed upon theseshores before we heard that the expedition to which we wereattached was bound for Ticonderoga. "

Again there was silence, which Mrs. Schuyler broke by askinggently:

"And your father thinks that there is some doom connected with thatname?"

"He is convinced that be will meet his death there, " repliedAlexander, "and I confess I fear the same myself. "

Nobody spoke for a minute, and then Mrs. Schuyler said softly:

"It is a strange, weird story; yet it cannot but be true. No mancould guess at such a name. Ticonderoga, Ticonderoga. I wonder whatwill be the end of that day!"

"And what matters the end if we do our duty to the last?" spokeLord Howe, lifting his bright young face and throwing back his headwith a gesture that his friends knew well. "A man can but die once. For my part, I only ask to die sword in hand and face to the foe, doing my duty to my country, my heart at peace with God. That isthe spirit with which we soldiers must go into battle. We are sentthere by our country; we fight for her. If need be we die for her. Can we ask a nobler death? For myself I do not. Let it come to meat Ticonderoga, or wherever Providence wills, I will not shrink orfear. Give me only the power to die doing my duty, and I ask nomore. "

There was a beautiful light in his great hazel eyes, a sweet smilehovered round his lips. Fritz, looking at him, seemed to seesomething in his face which he had scarcely noted before--a depth, a serenity, a beauty quite apart from the dashing gallantry of lookand bearing which was his most salient characteristic. 

Into the eyes of Mrs. Schuyler there had sprung sudden tears. Shewent over to the young man and laid a hand upon his head. 

"Thank God that our soldiers still go into battle in that spirit;that they make their peace with Him before they draw sword upontheir fellow men. A soldier's life is a strange paradox; yet God, who is the God of battles as well as Prince of Peace, knows andunderstands. He will bless the righteous cause, though He may callto rest many a gallant soldier, and still in death many an ardentyoung heart. But however mysteriously He works, we are instrumentsin His hands. Let us strive to be worthy of that honour, and thenwe shall know that we are helping to bring nearer His kingdom uponearth, which, when once set up, shall bring in a reign of peace, where war shall be no more. "

"Amen, with all my heart!" quoth Lord Howe, and there was a lightin his eyes which bespoke that, soldier though he was to hisfingertips, he was no stranger to the hope of the eternal peacewhich the Lord alone can give. 

Mrs. Schuyler was not a demonstrative woman in daily life; but whenher guest rose to say goodnight upon this last evening, she kissedhim as a mother might, and he kissed her back with words of tendergratitude and affection. 

And so the night fell upon the town of Albany--the night before themarch to Ticonderoga. 

Chapter 4: Ticonderoga. 

A joyous farewell to friends at Albany, with anticipation of aspeedy and victorious return thither; a rapid and well-arrangedmarch to Fort Edward and Lake George, where they were gladdened bythe sight of the hardy Rogers and the remnant of his gallant band, embarked in whaleboats, and ready to lead the van or perform anydaring service asked of them; a cheerful embarking upon the lake inthe great multitude of boats and bateaux; bright sunshine overhead, the sound of military music in their ears, flags waving, mencheering and shouting--what expedition could have started underhappier and more joyous auspices?

There were regulars from England--the foremost being theFifty-fifth, commanded by Lord Howe. There were American andHighland regiments, and the provincials from numbers of theprovinces, each in its own uniform and colours. The lake was alivewith above one thousand craft for the transport of this great armywith its heavy artillery, and Rogers declared that Ticonderoga wasas good as their own: for it had only provision to last eight ornine days; and if not at once battered down by the enemy's guns, itcould easily be starved out by a judicious disposition of thetroops. 

One night was spent camped halfway down the lake. Lord Howe, withStark and Rogers and Fritz for companions, lay upon his bearskinoverlooking Fritz's diagrams of the fort, taken in past days, listening to what all the three men had to tell of the fortress, both inside and out, and making many plans for the attack upon themorrow. 

General Abercromby was with the army; yet it was well known thatLord Howe was the leading spirit, and to him it was that all themen instinctively looked. It was he who upon the morrow, when theyhad reached and passed the Narrows and were drawing near to thefort, reconnoitred the landing place in whaleboats, drove off asmall party of French soldiers who were watching them, but wereunable to oppose them, and superintended the landing of the wholearmy. 

The lake here had narrowed down to the dimensions of a river, andit made a considerable bend something like a horseshoe. If thebridge had not been broken down, they could have marched to a pointmuch nearer to Ticonderoga upon a well-trodden road; but the bridgebeing gone, it was necessary to march the army along the west bankof this river-like waterway which connected Lake George with LakeChamplain, for there were too many dangerous rapids for navigationto be possible; and upon the tongue of land jutting out into LakeChamplain, and washed by the waters of this river on its otherside, stood the fortress of Ticonderoga, their goal. 

Rogers was their leader. He knew the forest well; yet even he foundit a somewhat difficult matter to pick his way through the densesummer foliage. The columns following found the forest tracksextraordinarily difficult to follow. They were many of them unusedto such rough walking, and fell into inevitable confusion. 

Rogers, together with Lord Howe and some of his hardier soldiersand the Rangers, pushed boldly on. Whilst they walked they talkedof what lay before them. Rogers told how Montcalm himself waswithin the fort, and that his presence there inspired the soldierswith great courage and confidence; because he was a fine soldier, avery gallant gentleman, and had had considerable success in armsever since he arrived in Canada. 

As the forest tracks grew more densely overgrown, Lord Howe pausedin his rapid walk beside Rogers. 

"My men are growing puzzled by the forest, " he said, "and indeed itis small wonder, seeing that we ourselves scarce know where we are. Go you on with the Rangers, Rogers, and I will return a shortdistance and get my men into better order. I do not anticipate anambush; but there may be enemies lurking in the woods. We must notbe taken unawares. Push you on, and I will follow with my companyat a short distance. "

"I will take a handful of men with me, " answered Rogers, "and pushon to reconnoitre. Let the rest remain with you. They willencourage and hearten up the regulars, who are new to this sort ofthing; and when I know more clearly our exact position, I will fallback and report. "

Fritz remained with Howe, whose men came marching up in a ratherconfused and straggling fashion, but were only perplexed, not inany wise disheartened, by the roughness of the road. When thecolumn had regained something like marching order, the word wasgiven to start, and Lord Howe with a bodyguard of Rangers marchedat the head. 

They had proceeded like this for perhaps a mile or more, when therewas a quick stir in the thicket. Next moment the challenge rangout:

"Qui vive?"

"Francais!" shouted back a Ranger, who had learned Rogers' trick ofpuzzling his opponents by the use of French words. 

But this time they were not deceived. A stern word of command wasgiven. A crack of rifles sounded out from the bushes; puffs ofsmoke and flashes of fire were seen. 

"Steady, men; load and fire!"

The command was given by Lord Howe. It was the last he ever spoke. The wood rang with the crossfire of the foes who could not see eachother. Fritz had discharged his piece, and was loading again whenhe saw Lord Howe suddenly throw up his hands and fall helplesslyforward. 

He sprang to his side with a cry of dismay. He strove to hold himup and support him to some place of safety, but could only lay himdown beneath a tree hard by, where a ring of Rangers instantlyformed around him, whilst the skirmish in the forest was hotlymaintained on both sides. 

"He is shot through the heart!" cried Stark, in a lamentable voice, as he hastily examined the wound; and indeed the shadow of deathhad fallen upon the brave, bright, noble face of the young officer. 

Just once the heavy lids lifted themselves. Lord Howe looked intothe faces of the two men bending over him, and a faint smile curvedhis lips. 

"Keep them steady, " he just managed to whisper, and the next momenthis head fell back against Fritz's shoulder. He had passed into theunknown land where the clamour of battle is no more heard. 

It was a terrible blow, and consternation spread through the ranksas it became known. Indeed, but for the Rangers, a panic and flightwould probably have followed. But Rogers, Stark, and Fritz were ofsterner stuff than the levies, and more seasoned than the bulk ofregular soldiers. 

Rogers had returned instantly upon hearing the firing, and haddischarged a brisk volley upon the French as he dashed throughtheir ranks to regain his companions. Caught between two fires, they were in no small peril, and made a dash for the riverbed; theRangers standing steady and driving them to their destruction, whilst the ranks had time to recover themselves and maintain theirground. 

The rout of this body of French soldiers was complete, whilst theEnglish loss was small numerically; but the loss of Howe wasirreparable, and all heart and hope seemed taken out of the gallantarmy which had started forth so full of hope. There was nothing nowto be done but to fall back upon the main army, with the sorrowfultidings of their leader's death, and await the order of GeneralAbercromby as to the next move. 

This was done, and the men were kept under arms all night, waitingfor orders which never came. Indecision and procrastination againprevailed, and were again the undoing of the English enterprise. 

Still there was no question but that the fort must be attacked, andas the Rangers came in with the news that the French had broken upand deserted a camp they had hitherto held at some sawmills on theriver, a little way from the fort, a detachment of soldiers wassent to take possession of this place. This having been done, and abridge thrown over the river by an able officer of the name ofBradstreet, the army was moved up, and encamped at this place priorto the assault of the fort. Rogers and his Rangers had reconnoitredthe whole place, and were eager to tell their tale. 

Fort Ticonderoga occupied a triangular promontory, washed upon twosides by the waters of Lake Champlain and the river-like extremityof Lake George. The landward approach was guarded by a strongrampart of felled trees, which the soldiers had formed into abreastwork and abattis which might almost be called musket-proof. So at least Rogers and his men had judged. They had watched theFrench at their task, and had good reason to know the solidprotection given to the men behind by a rampart of this sort. 

He was therefore all eagerness for the cannon to be brought up fromthe lake. 

"The artillery will make short work of it, General, " he said, inhis bluff, abrupt fashion. "It will come rattling about theirheads, and they must take to the walls behind, and these will soongive way before a steady cannonade. Or if we take the cannon up toyonder heights of Rattlesnake Hill, we can fling our round shotwithin their breastwork from end to end, and drive the men backlike rabbits to their burrow; or we can plant a battery at thenarrow mouth of Lake Champlain, and cut off their supplies. Withthe big guns we can beat them in half a dozen ways; but let ourfirst act be to bring them up, for muskets and rifles are of littleuse against such a rampart as they have made, bristling with spikesand living twigs and branches, which baffle assault as you mightscarce believe without a trial. "

Rogers spoke with the assurance and freedom of a man used tocommand and certain of his subject. He and Lord Howe had been onterms of most friendly intimacy, and the young Brigadier hadlearned much from the veteran Ranger, whose services had been of somuch value to the English. He would never have taken umbrage atadvice given by a subordinate. But General Abercromby was of adifferent order, and he little liked Rogers' assured manner andbrusque, independent tone. He heard him to the end, but gave anevasive reply, and sent out an engineer on his own account tosurvey the French position, and bring him word what was hisopinion. 

This worthy made his survey, and came back full of confidence. 

"The rampart is but a hastily-constructed breastwork of felledtrees; it should be easily carried by assault, " he reported, fullof careless confidence. "A good bayonet charge, resolutelyconducted, is all that is needed, and we shall be in the fortbefore night. "

The soldiers cheered aloud when they heard the news. They werefilled with valour and eagerness, in spite of the death of theirbeloved leader. It seemed as though his spirit inspired them withardent desire to show what they could do; although generalship, alas! had perished with the young Brigadier, who had fallen at suchan untimely moment. 

The Rangers looked at one another with grim faces. They would notspeak a word to dishearten the troops; but they knew, far betterthan the raw levies or the English regulars could do, the nature ofthe obstruction to be encountered. 

"A bayonet charge by soldiers full of valour is no light thing, "said Pringle to the Ranger, as they stood in the evening lighttalking together. "Resolute men have done wonders before now insuch a charge, and why not we tomorrow?"

"Have you seen the abattis?" asked Rogers, in his grim and brusquefashion. 

"No, " answered Pringle; "I have only heard it described by thosewho have. "

"Come, then, and look at it before it be dark, " was Rogers' reply;and he, together with Stark, led Fritz and Pringle and Roche alonga narrow forest pathway which the Rangers were engaged in wideningand improving, ready for the morrow's march, until he was able toshow them, from a knoll of rising ground, the nature of thefortification they were to attack upon the morrow. 

The French had shown no small skill in the building of thisbreastwork, which ran along a ridge of high ground behind the fortitself, and commanded the approach towards it from the land side. The whole forest in the immediate vicinity had been felled. It borethe appearance of a tract of ground through which a cyclone haswhirled its way. Great numbers of the trees had been dragged up toform the rampart, but there were hundreds of others, as well asinnumerable roots and stumps, lugs and heads, lying in confusionall around; and Rogers, pointing towards the encumbered tract justbeneath and around the rampart, looked at Pringle and said:

"How do you think a bayonet charge is to be rushed over such groundas that? And what good will our musketry fire be against thosetough wooden walls, directed upon a foe we cannot see, but who canpick us off in security from behind their breastwork? For let metell you that there is great skill shown in its construction. Onthe inside, I doubt not, they can approach close to theirloopholes, which you can detect all along, and take easy aim at us;but on this side it is bristling with pointed stakes, twistedboughs, and treetops so arranged as to baffle and hinder anyattempt at assault. As I told your General, his cannon couldshatter it in a few hours, if he would but bring them to bear. Buta rampart like that is practically bayonet and musket proof. Itwill prove impregnable to assault. "

Pringle and Roche exchanged glances. They had seen something offighting before this, but never warfare so strange. 

"Would that Lord Howe were living!" exclaimed the younger officer. "He would have heard reason; he would have been advised. But theGeneral--"

He paused, and a meaning gesture concluded the sentence. It was notfor them to speak against their commander; but he inspired noconfidence in his men, and it was plainly seen that he was about totake a very ill-judged step. 

It is the soldier's fate that he must not rebel or remonstrate orargue; his duty is to obey orders and leave the rest. But thatnight, as the army slept in the camp round the deserted sawmills, there were many whose eyes never closed in slumber. Fritz saw theveteran Campbell sitting in the moonlight, looking straight beforehim with wide, unseeing eyes; and when the grey light of day brokeover the forest, his face was shadowed, as it seemed, by theapproach of death. 

"I shall never see another sunrise, " he said to Fritz, as thelatter walked up to him; "my span of life will be cut through hereat Ticonderoga. "

Fritz made no reply. It seemed to him that many lives would be cutshort upon this fateful day. He wondered whether he should live tosee the shades of evening fall. He had no thought of quailing ordrawing back. He had cast in his lot with the army, and he meant tofight his very best that day; but he realized the hopelessness ofthe contest before them, and although, if the General could only bearoused in time to a sense of his own blunder, and would at theeleventh hour order up the cannon, and take those steps which mightensure success, the tide of battle might soon be turned. Yet no manfelt any confidence in him as a leader, and it was only theignorant soldiers, unaware of what lay before them, who rose togreet the coming day with hope and confidence in their hearts. 

But it was something that they should start forth with so high acourage. Even if they were going to their death, it was better theyshould believe that they were marching forth to victory. Theycheered lustily as they received the order, which was to carry thebreastwork by a bayonet charge; and only the Rangers saw the grimsmile which crossed the face of Rogers as he heard that word given. 

Yet he and his gallant band of Rangers were in the van. They didnot shrink from the task before them, although they knew betterthan others the perils and difficulties by which it was beset. Theyhad widened the path; they led the way. There was no more confusionin the line of march. 

The General remained behind at the sawmills, to direct theoperations of the whole army, as there were other slighterenterprises to be undertaken upon the same day, though the assaultof the protecting rampart was the chief one. News was to be broughtto him at short intervals of the course the fight was taking. Itwas Rogers' great hope that he would soon be made aware of theimpossibility of the task he had set his soldiers, and would sendinstant and urgent orders for the cannon to be brought up to theaid of his foot soldiers. 

Full of hope and confidence the columns pressed forward, tillshortly after midday they emerged from the shelter of the forest, and saw before them the broken space of open ground, with itsencumbering mass of stumps and fallen timber, and behind that thegrim rampart, where all looked still as death. They formed intoline quickly and without confusion and then, with an enthusiasticcheer, made a dash for the barrier. 

The Rangers and light infantry in front began to fire as theyadvanced; but the main body of soldiers held their bayonets inposition, and strove after an orderly advance. But over such groundorder was impossible. They had to clamber, to scramble, to cuttheir way as best they could. The twigs and branches blinded them;they fell over the knotted roots; they became disordered andscattered, though their confidence remained unshaken. 

Then suddenly, when they were half across the open space, came thelong crack and blaze from end to end of the rampart; smoke seemedto gush and flash out from one extremity to the other. Sharp criesof agony and dismay, shouts and curses, filled the air. The Englishfell in dozens amid the fallen trees, and those behind rushedforward over the bodies of their doomed companions. 

It was in vain to try to carry the rampart by the bayonet. Thesoldiers drew up and fired all along their line; but of what availwas it to fire upon an enemy they could not see, whilst theythemselves were a target for the grapeshot and musketballs whichswept in a deadly cross fire through their ranks? But they wouldnot fall back. Headed by the Rangers, who made rapid way over therough and encumbered ground, they pressed on, undaunted by the hailof iron about them, and inflamed to fury by the fall of theircomrades around them. 

It was an awful scene. It was branded upon the memory of thesurvivors in characters of fire. 

Fritz kept in the foremost rank, unable to understand why he wasnot shot down. He reached the rampart, and was halfway up, when hewas clutched by the hands of a man in front, who in his death agonyknew not what he did, and the two rolled into the ditch together. 

For a moment all was suffocation and horror. Unwounded, but buriedand battered, with his musket torn from his grasp, Fritz struggledout through the writhing heap of humanity, and saw that the head ofthe column had fallen back for a breathing space, though with theevident intention of re-forming and dashing again to the charge. 

The firing from the rampart still continued; but Fritz made asuccessful dash back to the lines, and reached them in safety. Hewas known by this time as an experienced Ranger, and was takenaside by Bradstreet, the officer in command of the light infantrythat with the Rangers headed the charge. 

The gallant officer was wounded and breathless, and was seated upona fallen trunk. 

"Neville, " he said, "I know that you are fleet of foot and stout ofheart. I would have you return to the camp on the instant, with amessage for the General. Tell him how things are here, and thatthis rampart is to the utmost as impregnable as Rogers warned us. Our men are falling thick and fast, and although full of courage, cannot do the impossible. Beg him to order the guns to be broughtup, for without them we are helpless against the enemy. "

Fritz knew this right well, and took the message. 

"We shall make another charge immediately, " Bradstreet said inconclusion. "We shall not fail to carry out our orders; but I havelittle hope of success. We can do almost nothing against theFrench, whilst they mow us down by hundreds. No men can hold on atsuch odds for long. Go quickly, and bring us word again, for we arelike to be cut to pieces. 

"You are not wounded yourself?"

"No; I have escaped as by a miracle. I will run the whole distanceand take the message. Would that the General had listened tocounsel before!"

Bradstreet made a gesture of assent, but said nothing. Fritz spedthrough the forest, hot and breathless, yet straining every nerveto reach his goal. 

It was a blazing day where the shade of the forest was not found, and this made the fighting all the harder. Fritz's heart was heavywithin him for the lives thrown away so needlessly. When he reachedthe tent of the General, and was ushered into his presence, burningwords rushed to his lips, and it was only with an effort that hecommanded himself to speak calmly of the fight and deliver themessage with which he was charged. 

General Abercromby listened and frowned, and looked about him asthough to take counsel with his officers. But the best of thesewere away at the fight, and those with him were few andinsignificant and inexperienced. 

"Surely a little resolution and vigour would suffice to carry aninsignificant breastwork, hastily thrown up only a few days ago, "he said, unwilling to confess himself in the wrong. "I will orderup the Highland regiments to your aid. With their assistance youcan make another charge, and it will be strange if you cannot carryall before you. "

Fritz compressed his lips, and his heart sank. 

"I will give you a line to Colonel Bradstreet. Tell him thatreinforcements are coming, and that another concerted attack mustbe made. It will be time enough to talk of sending for theartillery when we see the result of that. "

A few lines were penned by the General and entrusted to Fritz, whodashed back with burning heart to where the fight still raged sofiercely. He heard the bagpipes of the Highlanders skirling behindas he reached the opening in the forest. He knew that these bravemen could fight like tigers; but to what avail, he thought, were somany gallant soldiers to be sent to their death?

The fighting in his absence had been hot and furious, but nothinghad been done to change the aspect of affairs. Intrepid men hadassaulted the rampart, and even leaped upon and over it, only tomeet their death upon the other side. 

Once a white flag had been seen waving over the rampart, and for amoment hope had sprung up that the enemy was about to surrender. Thefiring for that brief space had been suspended, the English raisingtheir muskets over their heads and crying "Quarter!"--meaning thatthey would show mercy to the foe; the French thinking that they werecoming to give themselves up as prisoners of war. The signal hadmerely been waved by a young captain in defiance to the foe. He hadtied his handkerchief to his musket in his excitement, without anyintention to deceive. But the incident aroused a bitter feeling. TheEnglish shouted out that the French were seeking to betray them, andthe fight was resumed with such fury that for a brief while therampart was in real danger of being taken, and the French Generalwas in considerable anxiety. 

But the odds were too great. The gallant assailants were drivenback, and when Fritz arrived with his news there was again a slightcessation in the vehemence of the attack. 

Bradstreet eagerly snatched at the letter and opened it. Fritz'sface had told him something; the written words made assurancedoubly sure. 

He tore the paper across, and set his foot upon it. 

"We can die but once, " he said briefly; "but it goes to my heart tosee these brave fellows led like sheep to the slaughter. Englandwill want to know the reason why when this story is told at home. "

The Highlanders were soon upon the scene of action filled to thebrim with the stubborn fury with which they were wont to fight. Attheir head marched their Major, the dark-faced Inverawe, his sononly a little behind. 

The arrival of reinforcements put new heart into the gallant butexhausted regiments which had led the attack; and now theHighlanders were swarming about the foot of the rampart, seeking toscale its bristling sides, often gaining the top, by using thebodies of their slain countrymen as ladders, but only to be cutdown upon the other side. 

The Major cheered on his men. The shadow was gone from his facenow. In the heat of the battle he had no thought left for himself. His kinsmen and clansmen were about him. He was ever in the van. One young chieftain with some twenty followers was on the top ofthe rampart, hacking and hewing at those behind, as if possessed ofsuperhuman strength. The Highlanders, with their strange cries andyells, pressed ever on and on. But the raking fire from behind theabattis swept their ranks, mowed them down, and strewed the groundwith dying and dead. 

Like a rock stood Campbell of Inverawe, his eyes everywhere, directing, encouraging, cheering on his men, who needed not hiswords to inspire them with unquenchable fury. 

Suddenly his tall figure swayed forward. Without so much as a cryhe fell. There was a rush towards him of his own clansmen. Theylifted him, and bore him from the scene of action. It was the endof the assault. The Highlanders who had scaled the rampart had allbeen bayoneted within. Nearly two thousand men, wounded or dead, lay in that terrible clearing. It was hopeless to fight longer. Allthat man could do had been done. The recall was sounded, and thebrave troops, given over to death and disaster by the incompetenceof one man, were led back to the camp exhausted and despairing; theRangers still doing good service in carrying off the wounded, andkeeping up a steady fire whilst this task was being proceeded with. 

General Abercromby's terror at the result of the day's work was aspitiful as his mismanagement had been. There was no talk now ofretrieving past blunders; there was nothing but a general rout--aretreat upon Fort Edward as fast as boats could take them. Oneblunder was capped by another. Ticonderoga was left to the French, when it might have been an easy prey to the English. The day ofdisaster was not yet ended, though away in the east the star ofhope was rising. 

It was at Fort Edward that the wounded laird of Inverawe breathedhis last. His wound had been mortal, and he was barely living whenthey landed him on the banks of Lake George. 

"Donald, you are avenged!" he said once, a few minutes before hisdeath. "We have met at Ticonderoga!"

Book 4: Wolfe. 

Chapter 1: A Soldier At Home. 

He lay upon a couch beneath the shade of a drooping lime tree, where flickering lights and shadows played upon his tall, slightfigure and pale, quaint face. There was nothing martial in theaspect of this young man, invalided home from active service on theContinent, where the war was fiercely raging between the Europeanpowers. He had a very white skin, and his hair was fair, with adistinct shade of red in it. It was cut short in front, and lightlypowdered when the young man was in full dress, and behind it wastied in the queue so universally worn. 

He was quite young still, barely thirty years old; yet he had seenyears of active service in the army, and had achieved no smalldistinction for intrepidity and cool daring. He had won the noticealready of the man now at the helm of state, whose eyes wereanxiously fixed upon any rising soldier of promise, ready to availhimself of the services of such to sustain England's honour andprestige both on land and sea. 

James Wolfe was the son of a soldier, and had been brought up tothe profession of arms almost as a matter of course. Yet he seemeda man little cut out for the life of the camp; for he suffered fromalmost chronic ill-health, and was often in sore pain of body eventhough the indomitable spirit was never quenched within him. Hisface bore the look of resolution and self mastery which is often tobe seen in those who have been through keen physical suffering. There were lines there which told of weary days and nights of pain;but there was an unquenchable light in the eyes that invariablystruck those who came into contact with the young officer. He hadalready learned the secret of imparting to his men the enthusiasmwhich was kindled in his own breast; and there was not a man in hiscompany but would gladly have laid down his life in his service, ifhe had been called upon to do so. 

Today, however, there was nothing of the soldier and leader offorlorn hope in his aspect. He lay back upon his couch with adreamy abstraction in his gaze. The gambols of his caninefavourites passed unnoticed by him. He had been reading news thatstirred him deeply, and he had fallen into a meditation. 

The news sheet contained a brief and hasty account of the loss ofFort William Henry, with a hint respecting the massacre which hadfollowed. No particulars were as yet forthcoming. This was but thevoice of rumour. But the paragraph, vague as it was, had beensufficient to arouse strange feelings within the young officer. Hehad let the paper fall now, and was turning things over in his ownmind. 

One of the articles had said how needful it was becoming forEngland to awake from her lethargy, and send substantial aid to hercolonies, unless she desired to see them annihilated by theaggressions of France. National feeling against that proud foe wasbeginning to rise high. The Continental war had quickened it, andWolfe, who had served against the armies of France in many aclosely-contested battle, felt his pulses tingling at the recitalof her successes against England's infant colonies. 

Men were wanted for the service, the paper had said--men of courageand proved valour. We had had too many bunglers already out there;it was now time that men of a different stamp should beforthcoming. 

In his ears there seemed beaten the sound of a question and itsreply. Where had he heard those words, and when?

"Who will go up to battle against this proud foe?"

"Here am I; send me. "

The light leaped into his eyes; his long, thin hands clasped andunclasped themselves as stirring thoughts swept over him. He knewthat there was a great struggle impending between England and herFrench rival upon the other side of the world. Hitherto hisbattlefields had been in Europe, but a voice from far away seemedto be calling to him in urgent accents. Away in the West, Englishsubjects were being harried and killed, driven like helpless sheepto slaughter. How long was it to continue? Would the mother countrybe content that her provinces should be first contracted and thenslowly strangled by the chains imposed by the boundless ambition ofFrance? Never, never, never! The young officer spoke the wordsaloud, half raising himself from his couch as he did so. 

There was a rising man now at the helm of the state; he had not thefull powers that many desired to see. He had to work hand in handwith a colleague of known incapacity. Yet the voice of the nationwas beginning to make itself heard. England was growing enragedagainst a minister under whose rule so many grievous blunders hadbeen committed. Newcastle still retained his position of foremostof the King's advisers, but Pitt now stood at his side; and it wasunderstood that the younger statesman was to take the real commandof the ship of state, whilst his elder associate confined himselfto those matters in which he could not well do harm. 

"If only it had come three years earlier, " breathed Wolfe--"beforewe had suffered such loss and disgrace!"

The young soldier knew that an expedition had been fitted out a fewmonths ago for Louisbourg in Acadia--that French fortress of CapeBreton which alone had been able to resist the English arms. Thecapture of Louisbourg had been the one thing determined upon by thetardy government for the relief of their colonies in the Westernworld. It had been surmised that this action on their part woulddraw away the French troops from the frontier, and thus relieve thecolonists from any pressing anxiety; but although there had beenlittle definite news from the fleet so far, it began to be rearedthat the Admirals had mismanaged matters, and that no blow would bestruck this season. 

September had come--a hot, sunny, summer-like month in England. ButWolfe had heard something of the rock-bound coasts of Cape Breton, and he was well aware that if the furious equinoctial gales shouldonce threaten the English fleet, no Admiral would be able toattempt an action by sea, or even the landing of the troops. 

Young Wolfe had one friend out With the expedition, and from him hehad received a letter only a short time ago, telling him of all thedelays and procrastinations which were already beginning to renderabortive a well-planned scheme. It made his blood boil in his veinsto think how the incapacity of those in command doomed the hopes ofso many to such bitter disappointment, and lowered the prestige ofEngland in the eyes of the whole civilized world. 

"If Pitt could but have a free hand, things would be different!"exclaimed Wolfe again, speaking aloud, as is the fashion of lonelymen. "But the King is beginning to value and appreciate him, andthe nation is learning confidence. The time will come--yes, thetime will come! Heaven send that I live to see the day, and have ahand in the glorious work!"

As he spoke these words he observed a certain excitement amongstthe dogs playing around him, and guessed that their quick ears hadcaught sounds of an arrival of some sort. In a few minutes' timehis servant approached him, bearing a letter which he handed to hismaster, who opened it and cast his eyes over its contents. 

"Are the two gentlemen here?" he asked. 

"Yes, sir; they asked that the letter might be given to you, andthat they might wait until you had read it. "

"Then show them out to me here, and bring us coffee, " said Wolfe, whose face had put on a look of considerable eagerness andanimation; and as the servant retired towards the house, thesoldier remained looking after him, as though wistful to catch thefirst glimpse of the expected guests. 

In a few minutes they appeared in the wake of the servant. Bothwere quietly dressed in sober riding suits; but there theresemblance ended. One of the pair was a very tall man, with fairhair cut short all round his head, and a pair of large blue-greyeyes that had a trick of seeming to look through and beyond theobjects upon which they were bent, and a thoroughly English type offeature; whilst his companion was more slightly built, albeit a manof fine proportions, too, with a darker face, more chiselledfeatures, and hair dressed according to the prevailing mode, lightly powdered in front, and tied in a queue behind. 

Wolfe rose slowly to his feet, his brow slightly contracting withthe effort. Upon his face there was a very attractive smile, and heheld out his hand in turn to the two newcomers. 

"You are very welcome, gentlemen--more welcome than I can say. I amgrateful to my friend Sir Charles for giving me this opportunity ofmaking your acquaintance. It has been my great wish to speak faceto face with men who have lived in that great land whither all eyesare now turning. Be seated, I pray you, gentlemen, and tell mewhich of you is Mr. Julia Dautray, and which Mr. Humphrey Angell. "

"My name is Dautray, " answered the dark-eyed man. "We havetravelled to England together, my friend and I, but have also beenin France, to visit some of those there still bearing my name, although my immediate forefathers have lived and died in the landsof the far West. We have met with much kindness in this country, and have some time since accomplished the mission on which we weredispatched. Our thoughts are turning once more towards the land ofour birth. Had we not been in France at the time, we would gladlyhave accompanied the expedition which set sail for Louisbourg notlong since. "

"I cannot regret that you failed to do so, " answered Wolfe, in hiswinning way, "since it has brought me the pleasure of this visit. Itrust, gentlemen, that you will honour me by being my guests for afew days at least. There is very much that I desire to learn aboutthe lands from which you come. My friend Sir Charles speaks asthough you were wanderers upon the face of the earth. If that beso, I may hope that you will stay your wanderings meantime, andmake my home yours for a while. "

"You are very kind, Captain Wolfe, " said Julian gratefully; "if itbe not trespassing too far upon your hospitality, we should be gladand grateful to accept it. "

"The honour will be mine, " said Wolfe; "I have long desired to knowmore of that world beyond the seas. Hitherto I have seen nothingsave my own country, and a few of those which lie nearest to it. But I have the feeling within me that the time is coming when Ishall be sent farther afield. Men will be needed for the strifewhich must soon be waged on the far side of the Atlantic, and itmay be that I shall be chosen as one of those who will go thither. "

"That is what Sir Charles said when he gave us this letter foryou, " said Julian. "He said that Mr. Pitt had named you once ortwice as a rising officer, likely to be chosen for service there. That is why Sir Charles thought that a visit from us would bewelcome. I do not know whether we can give you any news which youhave not heard already; but we can at least answer such questionsas to the country and its life as may be interesting to you, thoughit is now two years since we sailed from its shores. "

Into Wolfe's eyes there had leaped a bright light. 

"Spoke Sir Charles such words of me?" he said eagerly. "Has Mr. Pitt named me as likely for this service?"

"So it was told us, " answered Julian. "We came to England in theearly spring of last year, with letters and urgent appeals tofriends in England from their kinfolk beyond the sea. We went fromplace to place, as our directions were, and saw many men and heardmuch hot discussion; but it seemed hard to get a hearing in highplaces, and for a while we thought we had had our journey in vain. Nevertheless they would not let us go. One and another would keepus, hoping to gain introduction to some influential man, in whoseears we could tell our tale. And so matters went on, and we werepassed from place to place, always well treated and well cared for. In the spring we went to France, though we were warned of danger, because of the war. But we met with no hurt. Humphrey passed as myservant, and I have French blood in my veins, and can speak thelanguage as one born there. Nor did we go to any large centres, butcontented ourselves with the remote spots, where I found kinsfolkof mine own name living still. And we reached England again onlytwo months ago. "

"And then?"

"There was more excitement then. The fleet had sailed forLouisbourg; men's hearts were stirred within them. Tales of freshatrocities along the border had reached home. Anger against Francewas stirred up by the war. It was then we were brought before SirCharles Graham, and told our tale to him. He is the friend of Mr. Pitt, and he came back to us many times to learn more of what wehad to tell of the difficulties of the provinces, and of the apathythat prevailed there, even though terrible things Were passingdaily close by. 

"It was he who at last bid us go to you. He said you were hisfriend, and would make us welcome for his sake and ours. And whenhe gave us this letter, he told us the words of Mr. Pitt respectingyou. "

"And have you other news besides?" asked Wolfe eagerly. "When leftyou London? And is it yet known there whether this rumour of freshdisaster is true? See, there is the Western news sheet; it speaksof a disquieting rumour as to the fall of Fort William Henry, ouroutpost on Lake George. Have fresh tidings been received? for ifthat place fall, we are in evil case indeed. "

Julian gravely shook his head. 

"The rumour is all too true. Had you not heard? A fast-sailingvessel has brought it to Southampton--the evil tidings of disasterand death. The fort held out bravely through a terrible cannonade;but no relief was sent, and the walls were battered down. There wasnothing for it but surrender. The garrison obtained honourableterms; but the French either could not or would not restrain theirIndian allies. Surrender was followed by a brutal massacre of thehapless soldiers and their wives and children. It is horrible toread the story of the atrocities committed. We have seen Indians attheir hideous work. We know, as you in this land never can do, whatit is like. "

Wolfe's eyes flashed fire. 

"A surrendered garrison massacred! and the French stood by andsuffered it!"

"The account is confused. Some say they did try without avail; somethat they were callous and indifferent; some that they did much toavert the horrors, and saved large numbers of victims out of theirclutches. But they did not succeed in stopping an awful loss oflife. The pages of history will be stained dark when the story ofthat day is written!"

"Ay, truly!" cried Humphrey, in his deep, resonant voice, speakingfor the first time; "the page of history should be written incharacters of blood and fire. I have seen the work of those savagefiends. I have seen, and I shall remember to the last day of mylife!"

"Tell me, " said Wolfe, looking straight at the stalwart youth, whose lips had slightly drawn themselves back, showing the firmline of the white teeth beneath. 

Humphrey had told his tale many times during the past months. Hetold it to Wolfe that day--told it with a curious graphic power, considering that his words were few, and that his manner wasperfectly quiet. 

A red flush mounted into Wolfe's face, and died away again. He drewhis breath through, his teeth with a slightly whistling sound. Withhim this was a sign of keen emotion. 

"You saw all that?"

"With my own eyes. I am telling no tale of hearsay. And men havetales yet more horrid to tell--tales to which a man may scarcelisten for the horror and the shame. This is the way the Indiansserve the subjects of the English crown at the bidding of theservants of France!"

Wolfe raised his right hand, and let it slowly drop again. 

"May Heaven give to me the grace, " he said, in a voice thatvibrated with tense feeling, "to go forth to the succour of mycountrymen there--to fight and to avenge!"

After that there was silence for a while, and the servant came andbrought coffee, and took orders for the entertainment and lodgingof the guests. When he had gone Wolfe was calm again, and listenedwith keen interest to the story they had to tell of their arrivalin Pennsylvania, and of the extraordinary apathy of the colonistsin the eastern towns, and the difficulty of arousing them to anyconcerted action with their own countrymen in the neighbouringprovinces, even for the common defence. 

Wolfe knew something of that, and of the causes at work to bringabout such a result. He talked with more comprehension and insightas to the state of infant colonies, partially self-governed andself-dependent, struggling out of leading strings, and intent upongrowing to man's estate, than anybody had hitherto done. 

"We shall never have a second Canada out there such as France haswon--a country wholly dependent upon the one at home, lookingalways to her for government, help, care, money. No, no; the spiritof those who went forth from England was utterly different. Theyare English subjects still, but they want to rule themselves aftertheir own way. They will never be helpless and dependent; they willbe more like to shake our yoke from off their necks when theyarrive at man's estate. But what matter if they do? We shall bebrothers, even though the sea roll between them. The parent countryhas sent them forth, and must protect them till they are able toprotect themselves, even as the birds and the beasts of the fieldsdefend their young. After that we shall see. But for my part Iprefer that struggling spirit of independence and desire afterself-government. It can be carried too far; but it shows life, energy, youth, and strength. If Canada were not bound hand and footto the throne of the French tyrant, she would be a more formidablefoe to tackle than she can show herself now. "

"Yet she has done us grievous hurt. We seem able to make no headwayagainst her, in spite of our best efforts. "

"Let us see what better efforts we can make then, " cried Wolfe, with eager eyes. "Best! why, man, we have done nothing butprocrastinate and blunder, till my ears tingle with shame as I readthe story! But we are awakening at last, and we have a man to lookto who is no blunderer. The tide will turn ere long, you will see;and when it does, may I be there to see and to bear my share!"

Julian looked at the gaunt, prostrate form of the soldier, and saidgravely:

"But you are surely in no fit state for military service?"

Wolfe threw back his head with a little gesture of impatience, andthen smiled brightly. 

"This carcass of mine has been a source of trouble and pain to mefrom my boyhood, and there come moments when I must needs give it alittle rest. But yet I have found that it can carry me through thenecessary fatigues with a vigour I had scarcely expected of it. Itis being patched up again after a hard campaign; and now that thesummer has closed, nothing can be set afoot till the spring comes. By that time I shall be fit for service once more, you will see. Iam taking the waters of Bath with sedulous care. They have donemuch for me as it is. Soon I trust to be hale and sound once more. "

"Have you been wounded, sir?"

"Many times, but not seriously; only that everything tells when oneis afflicted by such a rickety body as this, " and the young officersmiled his peculiarly brilliant smile, which made the chief charmof his pale, unusual face. "I got both a wound and a severe strainin my last campaign, which has bothered me ever since, and stillkeeps me to my couch the greater part of the day. But rheumatism ismy chronic foe; it follows me wherever I go, lying in wait topounce upon me, and hold me a cripple in its red-hot iron hand. That is the trouble of my life on the march. It is so often all butimpossible to get through the day's work, and yet it is wonderfulhow the foe can be held at bay when some task has to be donewhether or not. 

"But a truce to such talk! A soldier has other things to think ofthan aching joints and weary bones. A man can but once die for hiscountry, and that is all I ask to do. That mine will not he a longlife I feel a certain assurance. All I ask is the power to serve mycountry as long as I am able, and to die for her, sword in hand, when the hour has come. "

The eyes kindled and the smile flashed forth. Julian and Humphreylooked into the face of the man whom they had heard described asone of the most promising and intrepid young officers of theEnglish army, and felt a thrill of admiration run through them. Theframe was so frail and weak and helpless; but the indomitablespirit seemed as though it would be able to bear its master throughany and every peril which duty might bid him face. 

They had consented to be his guests for a few days; but it had notoccurred to them that this visit would be prolonged to any greatlength, and yet thus it came about. 

Colonel Wolfe and his wife, the mother of whom the young soldieroften spoke in tender and loving terms, were detained fromrejoining their son, as they had purposed doing before the wintercame. Colonel Wolfe had a property of his own in Kent, and hispresence was wanted there. The son was compelled to remain in theneighbourhood of Bath for the sake of his shattered health. Theyhad intended all spending the winter there together in the pleasanthouse they had taken; but this soon became impossible, and it wasthen that Wolfe said to his new friends, with that quaint look ofappeal in his eyes which they had come to know by this time:

"Could you two be persuaded to take pity upon a capricious andwhimsical sick man, and be his companions through the wintermonths? Then with the spring, when we know what is to be done forthe succour of our comrades in the West, we will make shift to goforth to their assistance. If you will stay with me till then, Iwill promise you shall not lack fitting equipment to follow thearmy when it sails hence. "

There was nothing the two companions desired more by that time thanto remain with Wolfe, the charm of whose personality had by thattime quite fascinated them. They felt almost like brothers already. It was upon Humphrey's strong arm that Wolfe would take his dailywalk into the town for the needful baths or water drinkings. It wasJulian who read to him the news of the day, and they all discussedit eagerly together. Moreover, he saw to the drilling and trainingof these two fine men with the keenest interest and enthusiasm. They had the making in them of excellent soldiers, and showed anaptitude which delighted him for all sorts of exercises and featsof arms. 

The war fever permeated the whole country by that time, andtraining and drilling were going on all around. It was easy for thetravellers to pick up all that was needful to them of comprehensionas to military terms and commands. Hours were spent by themselvesand Wolfe over books and maps in the library, whilst he fought overagain with them campaign after campaign--those where he had served, and those before his time with which he had close acquaintance; andthey entered more and more into the spirit of martial exercise, learning to comprehend military tactics and the art of war as theyhad never done before. 

Meantime the news from the Western world was all bad. The attemptupon Louisbourg had been abortive, owing to the tardiness of theEnglish Admiral, of London the Governor out there, and the earlystorms which had obliged the fleet to retire even when it hadmustered for the attack. 

"It is shameful!" cried Wolfe with flashing eyes, as the news wasmade known; "England will become the laughingstock of the wholeworld! Fort Oswego lost, William Henry lost, and its garrisonmassacred! Louisbourg left to the French, without a blow beingstruck! Shame upon us! shame upon us! We should blush for our tardyprocrastination. But mark my word, this will be the last suchblunder! Pitt will take the reins in his own grasp. We shall see achange now. "

"I trust so, " said Humphrey grimly; "it is time indeed. I know whatthese attacks against Louisbourg will mean for those along thefrontier--death, disaster, more Indian raids, less power ofprotection. The Governor will draw off the levies which might cometo their assistance for the work at Louisbourg. The French willhound on the Indians to ravage more and more. We shall hear freshtales of horror there before the end comes. "

"Which we will avenge!" spoke Wolfe, between his shut teeth. "Itshall not always be said of England that she slept whilst hersubjects died!"

With the turn of the year active preparations began to bediscussed, and Wolfe to receive letters from headquarters. All wasnow excitement in that household, for there was no doubt thatEngland's great minister was going to take active measures, andthat the day of tardy blundering was to be brought to an end. 

Wolfe was found one day in a state of keen excitement. 

"I have heard from Mr. Pitt myself!" he cried, waving the paperover his head. "He has taken the great resolve, not only to checkthe aggressions of France upon the border, but to sweep her outfrom the Western world, till she can find no place for herselfthere! That is the spirit I delight in; that is the task I long toaid in; that is the one and only thing to do. Leave her neitherroot nor branch in the world of the West! If we do, she will be athorn in our side, a upas tree poisoning the air. Let Canada beours once for all, and we have no more to fear!"

Humphrey and Julian exchanged glances of amaze. Such a scheme asthis seemed to smack of madness. 

"You think it cannot be done, my friends? England has done greaterfeats before. "

"But there is Quebec, " said Julian gravely; "I have heard that itis a fortress absolutely impregnable. And Quebec is the key ofCanada. "

"I know it, " answered Wolfe, with a light in his eyes, "I know itwell. I have seen drawings; I have heard descriptions of it. Thatit will be a nut hard to crack I do not doubt. But yet--butyet--ah, well, we may not boast of what we will do in the future. Let it suffice us first to take Louisbourg from the foe. But thatonce done, I shall know no rest, day or night, till I stand asvictor at the walls of Quebec!"

Chapter 2: Louisbourg. 

"Do not leave Gabarus Bay until I have effected a landing!"

So spoke Admiral Boscawen; and when the word was known, a cheer ranthrough the squadron from end to end. 

Brigadier Wolfe had struggled up upon deck, looking white andghostlike, for he had suffered much during the voyage; but whenthat word reached him, the fire leaped into his eyes, and he turnedan exultant look upon his friends, and exclaimed:

"That is an excellent good word; that is the spirit which inspiresvictory!"

Yet it was no light thing which was to be attempted, as no one knewbetter than Wolfe himself; for he had been out in a boat upon theprevious day with Major General Amherst and his comrade BrigadierLawrence, reconnoitring the shore all along the bay, and they hadseen how strongly it was commanded by French batteries, and howdifficult it would be to land any body of troops there. 

To their right, as they looked shorewards, stood the town and grimfortress of Louisbourg, boldly and commandingly placed upon therocky promontory which protects one side of the harbour, runningout, as it were, to meet another promontory, the extremity of whichis called Lighthouse Point. These two promontories almost enclosethe harbour of Louisbourg; and midway between them is Goat Island, upon which, in the days of warfare of which we are telling, astrong battery was placed, so that no enemy's ship could enter theharbour without being subjected to a murderous crossfire, enough todisable and sink it. 

Within the harbour were a number of French ships, which, in spiteof a feeble attempt at blockade earlier in the year by some Englishand American vessels, had succeeded in making their way thitherwith an ample supply of provisions for the garrison. 

To force an entrance into the harbour was manifestly impossible atthe present juncture of affairs. The only hope lay in effecting alanding in the larger bay outside, where lay the English fleet; andthe shore had been reconnoitred the previous day with a view ofascertaining the chances of this. 

The report had not been encouraging. The French batteries were wellplaced, and were well furnished with cannon. It would be difficultenough to land. It would be yet more difficult to approach thecitadel itself; but the experienced eyes of Wolfe and others sawthat the only hope lay in an attack from the landward side. Thedangerous craggy shore was its best protection. On land there wereridges of high ground from which it might be stormed, if only gunscould be carried up. That would be a task of no small danger anddifficulty; but courage and resolution might win the day; andAmherst was a commander of a different stamp from the hesitatingAbercromby, who was at that very time mustering his troops with aview to the attack upon Ticonderoga. 

"It is a fine fortress, " said Wolfe to Julian, as they stoodsurveying the place from the raised deck of the vessel. "You cannotsee much from here; the distance is too great. But they havebatteries well posted on every height all along the bay; and as forthe fortress and citadel, I have seldom seen such workmanship. Itsbastions, ramparts, and glacis are a marvel of engineering. It maywell be called the Dunkirk of the Western world. It will be a hardnut to crack; but I never believe there is a fortress which Englishvalour cannot suffice to take!"

The resolution to land the troops once made, arrangements werespeedily set in order. There were three places along the bay whereit might he possible to effect a landing--White Point, Flat Point, and Freshwater Cove--all on the west of the town. To the east therewas an inlet where it might be possible to land troops, thoughperilously near the guns of the citadel. It was resolved to make afeint here, and to send parties to each of the three other points, so as to divide and distract the attention of the enemy. Wolfe wasto take command of the landing at Freshwater Cove, which was thespot where Amherst most desired to make his first stand, and herethe most determined attempt was to be made. The Commander came andconferred with his Brigadier as to the best method of procedure, and left him full powers of command when the moment should come. 

Julian and Humphrey were with Wolfe, and had been his companionsand best friends upon the voyage out. They had both obtainedcommissions, partly through the influence of the Brigadier; andwere eager to see warfare. Julian had been Wolfe's nurse andattendant during the voyage, and the bond which now united them wasa strong and tender one. Wolfe bad suffered both from seasicknessand from a renewal of the former strain, and looked even now butlittle fit for the enterprise upon which he was bound; but nophysical weakness had ever yet hindered him in the moment of perilfrom doing his duty, and his eyes flashed with the old fire, as hespoke of what was about to take place. 

"Let us but once gain possession of that battery, " he cried, pointing to the guns frowning grimly over Freshwater Cove, "andturn the guns against their present masters, and we shall havetaken the first step. Once let us get foot upon this shore, and itwill take more than the cannonade of the Frenchmen to get us offagain. "

Eagerly did the fleet await the moment of attack; but theirpatience was rather severely tried. Gale first and then heavy fog, with a tremendous swell at sea, detained them long at theiranchorage, and one good ship struck upon a rock, and was inconsiderable danger for a while. 

Wolfe suffered much during those days; but his spirit was asunquenchable as ever, and as soon as the stormy sea had gone down alittle, was eager for the enterprise. 

"Let us but set foot ashore, and I shall be a new man!" he cried. "I weary of the everlasting heaving of the sea; but upon shore, with my sword in my hand, there I am at home!"

The sea grew calm. There was still a heavy swell, and the wavesbroke in snowy surf upon the beach; but the attempt had becomepracticable, and the word was given overnight for a start atdaybreak. The men were told off into light boats, such as could betaken close inshore; whilst the frigates were to approach thevarious points of real or feigned attack, and open a heavycannonade upon the French batteries. 

Julian and Humphrey found themselves in boats alongside each other. Humphrey was an Ensign, whilst Julian had been made a Lieutenant. They belonged to the flotilla commanded by Wolfe, and weredirecting some of the boats which were upon the right extremity ofthe little fleet. 

The hearts of the men were beating high with excitement and theanticipation of stern work before them. The guns looked grimlyforth from the heights above the shore. All was yet silent asdeath; still it was impossible to think that the French wereignorant of the concerted movement about to be made against them. 

A roar from the shore, behind and to their right, told them thatalready the battle had begun in other quarters. The sailors settheir teeth and rowed their hardest. The boats shot through thegreat green waves. 

Suddenly the smoke puffed out from the batteries in front. Therewas a flash of fire, and in a few seconds a dull roar, withstrange, screaming noises interspersed. The water became lashed bya storm of shot, and shrieks of human agony mingled with the noiseof the battle. It was a deadly fire which fell hot around thedevoted little fleet; but Humphrey and Julian, away to the right, were a little out of range, and slightly protected by a craggyridge. No man of their company had been killed; but they saw thatalong the line of boats terrible havoc was being wrought. 

They saw Wolfe's tall, thin figure standing up and making signs. Hewas waving his hand to them now, and Humphrey exclaimed in his keenexcitement:

"We are to land behind the crag and rush the guns!"

In a moment the half-dozen or more boats of this little detachmentwere making for the shore as hard as the rowers' arms could takethem. It was hard work to land amongst the breakers, which weredashing into snowy surf along the beach; but perhaps the surf hidthem from their enemies a little, for they were not hindered by anystorm of shot or shell. They landed on the beach, formed into acompact body, and headed by Major Scott and some bold Highlandsoldiers, they dashed up the slope towards the battery. 

But now they were in the midst of a hail of bullets. It seemed toHumphrey as though hell's mouth had opened. But there was nothought of fear in his heart. The battle fury had come upon him. Hesprang within the battery and flung himself upon the gunners. Others followed his example. There was a tremendous hand-to-handfight--French, Indians, English, Scotch, all in one strugglingmelee; and then above the tumult Wolfe's clarion voice ringing out, cheering on his men, uttering concise words of command; and then asense of release from the suffocating pressure, a consciousnessthat the enemy was giving way, was flying, was abandoning theposition; a loud English cheer, and a yell from the Highlanders, the sound of flying footsteps, pursuers and pursued; and Humphreyfound himself leaning against a gun, giddy and blind andbewildered, scarcely knowing whether he were alive or dead, till ahand was laid upon his shoulder, and a familiar voice said in hisear:

"Well done, Ensign Angell. They tell me that we owe our victoriousrush today to your blunder!"

"My blunder?"

"Yes; you mistook my signal. I was ordering a retreat. It would nothave been possible to land the men under that deadly fire. I couldnot see, from my position, the little shelter of the crag. I hadsignalled to draw out of the range of the guns. But your mistakehas won us the day. "

Humphrey, half ashamed, half exultant, was too breathless to reply;Julian came hastening up; and Wolfe hurried away to see to thelanding of the guns and stores, now that the enemy had made a fullretreat upon the fortress. 

"You are not wounded, Humphrey?"

"I think not. I have only had all the breath knocked out of me; andthe guns seem to stun one. Have they really left us in possessionof the battery? And does not Wolfe say that, when once we get afooting on the shore, we will not leave till Louisbourg is ours?"

Triumph filled the hearts alike of soldiers and sailors. All daylong they worked waist deep in the surf, getting ashore such thingsas were most needed, intrenching themselves behind the battery, clearing the ground, making a road up from the beach, and pitchingtheir tents. 

At. Night a cheer went up from their weary throats, for they sawred tongues of flame shooting up, and soon it was known beyond adoubt that the French had fired one of their batteries, which theyhad felt obliged to abandon; and this showed that they had nointention of attacking the bold storming party which hadestablished itself at the Cove. 

At sea the guns roared and flashed all day and all night. The airwas full of sounds of battle. But the wearied soldiers slept intheir tents, and by day worked might and main at the task of makinggood their position. They extended the line of their camp, theybuilt redoubts and blockhouses, they routed skirmishing parties ofIndians and Acadians hiding in the woods and spying upon them, andthey strengthened their position day by day, till it became toostrong a one for the enemy to dare to approach. 

Every day the men toiled at their task, cheered by items of newsfrom the shore. The battery on Goat Island was silenced, after manydays of hot fire from the English frigates. A French vessel hadfired in the harbour, and had been burned to the water's edge. Thegarrison had sent a frigate with dispatches pressing for aid totheir governor in Canada. The frigate and dispatches fell into thehands of the English, and much valuable information was gleanedtherefrom. 

And day by day the camp stretched out in a semicircle behind thetown. It was a difficult task to construct it; for a marsh laybefore them, and the road could only be made at the cost oftremendous labour, and often the fire of the enemy disturbed themen at their work. 

Wolfe was the life and soul of the camp all through this piece ofarduous work. If he could not handle pick and shovel like some, hisquick eye always saw the best course to pursue, and his keeninsight was invaluable in the direction of operations. Ill or well, he was with and amongst his men every day and all day long, thefriend of each and every one, noticing each man's work, givingpraise to industry and skill, cheering, encouraging, inspiring. Nota soldier but felt that the young officer was his personal friend;not a man but would most willingly and gladly have borne for himsome of that physical suffering which at times was written all tooclearly in his wasted face. 

"Nay, it is nothing, " he would say to his companions, when theystrove to make him spare himself; "I am happier amongst you all. Ican always get through the day's work somehow. In my tent I broodand rebel against this crazy carcass of mine; but out here, in thestir and the strife, I can go nigh to forget it. "

But Wolfe was soon to have a task set him quite to his liking. Hecame to his quarters one day with eager, shining eyes; and so soonas he saw him, Julian knew that he had news to tell. 

"The batteries upon Lighthouse Point are next to be silenced. Wemust gain the command of the harbour for our ships. If we can oncedo that, the day will be ours. I am told off to this task, withtwelve hundred men. You and Humphrey are to go with me. We mustmarch right round the town, under cover of night, taking our gunswith us. By daybreak we will have them planted behind the Frenchbattery; by night, if all goes well, we shall have gainedpossession of it. "

The troops were all drawn up in order for the night march, full ofhopeful anticipation. They had that kind of confidence in Wolfewhich the commander inspires who is not made but born. Humphrey, whose skill in finding his way in the dark, and whose powers as aguide had been tested before now, was sent on in advance with ahandful of men, to give warning of any impending peril to be passedor encountered. He had the untiring energy of a son of the forest, and the instinct which told him of the proximity of the foe beforehe saw him. 

But the march was uneventful in that way. The French had fallenback upon the town. Their fears now were for the very fortressitself, that fortress which they had so proudly boasted wasimpregnable alike by land and sea! Before the dawn of the morningHumphrey came back to the main body, seeking speech with Wolfe. 

"They have abandoned their battery on Lighthouse Point. It is ourswithout striking a blow. They have spiked their guns and gone! Wehave only to take possession, mount our guns, and the command ofthe harbour is ours!"

A shout of triumph went up from the men as this fact became known. Gaily did they push on over the broken country, doing what theycould in passing to level the way for the transport of the cannonin the rear. By dawn of day, they were full in sight of theirdestination, and saw indeed that it was deserted, and only awaitedtheir taking possession. With shouts and cheers they dragged uptheir guns and set them in position. They fired a salute to telltheir friends that all was well, and sent a few shots flyingamongst the French ships in the harbour, to the no smallconsternation of the town. 

But Wolfe could not be idle. The task set him had been accomplishedwithout his having to strike a blow. 

"We must unite our line, and silence some of those batteries thatprotect the town on the land side, " he said to his men. "The gunsand the gunners, with a sufficient force for their protection, willremain here. We have sterner work to do elsewhere; and whilst weare pushing our lines nearer and nearer, I would I knew how theyare feeling within the walls of the town. "

"Let me be the one to find that out and report, " said Julianeagerly. 

"You, man! and how?"

"Let me try to make my way within the lines. We have Frenchprisoners; let me borrow the uniform of one. I can speak French aseasily as though it were my mother tongue, which, in sooth, perhapsit is; for I might as well call myself French as English, althoughI have always loved the English and cast in my lot with them. Nosentry can know the face of every soldier in the fortress. Let mesee if I cannot get within the walls, and bring you word again ofwhat is passing there!"

Wolfe stroked his face thoughtfully. 

"It is a bold scheme, and I have a mind to take you at your word;but I would not have you run into too great peril. "

"I scarce think that I shall do so. I will have a care. In truth, Ishould well enough like to see within those solid walls. It is awonderful fortress this. It might be good for us to know itsstrength or its weakness, if weakness it has. I would but remain acouple of nights, and then return and bring you word again. "

"I should like to hear the report right well, " answered Wolfe. "Ionly wish I could accompany you myself. "

"That would never do. Yours is too valuable a life to risk; mine isworth but little to any man save myself. "

"I fear rather that I should be but a clog upon your movements, "answered Wolfe; "and no man would take me for a Frenchman, eventhough I can speak the tongue indifferently well. Nor would Amherstsuffer me to make the attempt. We are all under obedience to oursuperiors. But I will suffer you to go, if you think the risk nottoo great. But have a care of yourself, Julian, have a care. Youhave become a friend to me that I could ill spare. If aught of harmbefell you, the campaign would be clouded to me, even thoughcrowned with victory. "

Julian pressed the hand he held, and for a moment there was silencebetween the pair. Wolfe looked out before him, and said musingly:

"Does it never seem strange to you, Julian, the thought that ourtrade is one which makes us look upon the slaughter of our foes asthe thing most to be desired, whilst we have that in our heartswhich causes us to hate the very thought of suffering and death, either for ourselves or for others; and when we see our foeswounded and left upon the field of battle, we give them the careand tending that we give our own men, and seek in every way toallay their pain and bring them help and comfort?"

"Yes, truly; war is full of strange paradoxes, " answered Julianthoughtfully. "Sometimes I think that war, like all other ills, comes to us as a part of the curse which sin has brought into theworld. We cannot get away from it yet. There be times when it isright to fight--when to sit with folded hands would be a grievousand a cowardly action on the part of a nation. Yet we know that itis God's will that we should love our brethren, and we know that Heloves all. So when we see them helpless and suffering, we know thatwe are right to tend and care for them, and that to do otherwisewould be a sin in His sight. And we know, too, that the day willcome when wars will cease, when Christ will come and take the powerand rule, and when we shall see Him in His glory, and the kingdomsof this world will become the kingdom of our God and of HisChrist. "

Deep silence fell upon them both, and then Wolfe spoke gently. 

"That would, indeed, be a glorious day! though I, a soldier trainedto arms, say it. But I fear me I shall never live to see it. "

Julian was silent awhile, and then said slowly:

"We cannot tell. Of that day and hour knoweth no man. All we knowis that it will come, and will come suddenly. I have lived amongstthose who looked to see it from day to day. They had been waitingand watching for the Lord's coming through hard upon a century, they and their fathers before them. The hope was beginning to fadeand die out. Priests had come amongst them who bid them think ofother things, and look no farther than the sacrifice of the Mass, daily offered before their eyes. And yet I used to feel that theother was the fuller, more glorious hope. I think I shall cherishit always. "

"I would were I you, " answered Wolfe in a low voice. "I think it isthat which has made you different from other men. I think that if Iwere to be dying, Julian, I should like to hold your hand in mineand feel that you were near. "

Then the two friends pressed each other by the hand, and walkedback to the camp. As Julian had said, there were many Frenchprisoners there, brought in from time to time after skirmishes. They were treated exactly the same as the English wounded, andWolfe made a point of visiting them daily, talking to them in theirown tongue, and promising them a speedy exchange when anynegotiation should be opened with the town. Julian, too, went muchamongst them, able to win their confidence very easily, since heseemed to them almost like a brother. It was quite an easy thingfor him to disguise himself in the white uniform of a Frenchsoldier, and to creep, under cover of the darkness, closer andcloser to the wall of the town. 

It so chanced that he could not have chosen a better night for hisenterprise. The booming of guns across the harbour and from thebatteries behind had now become constant, and attracted littlenotice from sentries or soldiers beyond range. But just as darknessbegan to fall, a shell from Wolfe's newly-planted battery fell uponone of the French ships in the harbour, and set her on fire. Theglare rose in the sky, and suddenly there was the sound of anexplosion, sparks rose in dense clouds into the air, and the shipplunged like a wild creature in terror, broke from her moorings, and drifted alongside a sister ship. The flames spread to herrigging, and in a few minutes both were ablaze; and before theaffrighted and bewildered crews could do anything to prevent it, athird vessel had become involved in the conflagration, and the townwas illumined by the pillars of flame which shot up from the stillwaters of the harbour. 

All was confusion and dismay, for the French had no ships to spare. Four had been deliberately sunk in the harbour's mouth to preventthe entrance of the English, and here were three all in a blaze. The soldiers and inhabitants rushed madly down to the water's edgeto seek to stay the conflagration, and Julian, seizing hisopportunity, rushed through the gateway with a small detachment ofmen from one of the outside batteries, and found himself within thetown without having been so much as challenged. 

Down to the water's edge with the rest he rushed, shouting andgesticulating with the best of them. His uniform prevented hisbeing even so much as looked at. To all appearance he was a Frenchsoldier. He did not hesitate to mingle in the crowd, or avoidconversation with any. Very soon he found he was working with therest in the hopeless endeavour to save the doomed vessels; and hewas helpful in getting off some of the half-stifled sailors, dashing upon deck quite a number of times, and bringing back in hisstrong arms the helpless men who had been overpowered by the flamesbefore they could make their escape. 

It was work which Julian loved; for saving life was more to histaste than killing. He toiled on, cheering up his comrades, tillall that could be saved were placed upon shore; and when he steppedat last upon the quay after the last voyage to the burning ships, he found himself confronted by a fine soldierly man, whose dressand manner bespoke him a personage of some importance. 

"Well done, my good fellow, " he said approvingly; "I shall notforget your gallantry tonight. You doubtless belong to one of thevessels, since I have no knowledge of your face. You had bettercome up to the citadel, where you shall receive refreshment and aplace to rest in. We want all the soldiers we can get for thedefence of the town, since we are in evil case between foes on landand foes on the sea. "

Julian saluted, and spoke a few words of thanks, and the crowd borehim towards the citadel. 

"Who was it that spoke to me?" he asked of his next neighbour; andthe man replied with a laugh:

"Why, Governor Drucour to be sure! Are you blind with the smoke, myfriend? A very gallant governor and soldier he is, as you shouldknow. And as for Madame, his wife--ah, well, you must see her tounderstand!"

Nor was Julian long in understanding something of what was meant bythis unfinished sentence; for he and his companions had not beenlong seated at table, with a good meal before them, when the dooropened, and a tall, elegant lady entered the room, leaning on thearm of the Governor, and instantly the whole company rose, whilst ashout went up:

"Long live the Governor! Long live Madame his wife! Long live theKing!"

The lady came in, and motioned to the company to be seated. Shewalked up and down amongst them, speaking brave words of thanks andcheer; and halting beside Julian, she made him quite a littlespecial speech, telling him how she had heard that he had been theforemost of all in seeking to save the lives of those who mightotherwise have perished in the flames. 

No questions were asked of him, for the excitement was stillstrong, and it was taken for granted that he had come off one ofthe burning ships. The men were all talking together, with thevolubility of their race, and Julian took just enough share in theconversation to avoid suspicion. 

Besides, why should he be suspected? He looked in every respect aFrenchman. And had he not risked his life more than once that nightto save those left on board the vessels?

The next morning he was able to take an excellent view of thecitadel and town. He was amazed at the strength of the place. Inone sense of the word it was well nigh impregnable. From the waterit could scarcely be touched; but the ridges above, now in thepossession of the English, were a source of weakness and peril; andnow that the enemy was pushing nearer and nearer, under cover oftheir own guns, it was plain that the position was becoming one ofgrave peril. A very little more and the English would be able toshell the whole town and fortress from the land side; and thoughthe soldiers within the citadel were full of hope and confidence, the townsfolk were becoming more and more alarmed, and spoke openlytogether of the probable fall of the place. 

They told Julian much that he desired to know, as did also thesoldiers within the citadel. He was listening to them, when asudden cry reached them, and a cheer went up, mingled with cries of"Vive Madame! vive Madame le General!"

Julian looked round, and saw that Madame Drucour had come out uponthe ramparts, and was preparing with her own hands to fire off oneof the great guns. This she did amid the applause of the soldiers, and the man standing beside Julian said with enthusiasm:

"Madame comes here every day, no matter the weather or the firing, and walks round the ramparts, and fires off one or more of theguns, to keep us in heart. She is a brave lady. If all soldiers andtownsfolk had her spirit, there would be no talk of surrenderingLouisbourg. "

Chapter 3: Victory. 

"Julian! Is that you I see? Truly I had begun to fear that somemisfortune had befallen you. So you have been within the walls ofthe town, and have returned safe and sound? Your face is a verywelcome one, my friend!"

Wolfe stretched out his hand, which was eagerly grasped by Julian. It was a still, close evening, and the sullen booming of the gunscontinued without abatement. So used had the ears of besiegers andbesieged grown to that sound of menace, that it was hardly heededmore than the roar of the surf upon the shore. 

Wolfe was lying in his tent, looking white and worn, as wasgenerally the case after the labours of the day were ended. Hisindomitable spirit bore him gallantly through the working hours ofthe long, hot days; but night found him exhausted, and often toosuffering to sleep. Julian had been his best companion at suchtimes as these, and he had missed him a good deal these past days. 

"I have been within the city and citadel, and have returned safeand sound, " answered Julian, throwing off the cloak he wore overhis white French uniform. "It cannot be long before the placesurrenders. Our guns are doing fearful havoc. Fires break out, asyou must see, continually. The King's Bastion was almost allconsumed yesterday. The hearts of the townspeople are growing faintwithin them. The officers and soldiers are bold, and show acheerful front; but they begin to know that sooner or later theywill have to throw up the game. "

Wolfe's eyes kindled with martial joy. 

"It is the turn of the tide, the turn of the tide!" he exclaimed, his whole face instinct with anticipation of triumph. "The Englishflag has been trailed in the dust, humiliated, vanquished; but sheshall wave aloft over yon proud fortress, which men have calledimpregnable. And if there, why not over Quebec itself?"

Then, whilst he made Julian refresh himself with food and drink, hebid him tell all the story of his visit to Louisbourg: how he hadobtained entrance, what he had seen and heard, and what opinion henow held as to the position of the foe and the chances of thesiege. 

Wolfe was much delighted with the anecdotes related of the courageand kindness of Madame Drucour. 

"The Commander shall hear of that. Brave lady! I would not that sheshould suffer needless hurt. Tell me, Julian, are they in need offood or wine or any such thing within the walls? I would gladlysend to the brave Madame some token of goodwill and appreciation. "

"They are well victualled; but I heard Madame say that the sickwere suffering somewhat from scurvy, and that she wished she hadfruit to distribute amongst them. Some of them have come off theships, where the illness is frequent. Madame Drucour visits thesick constantly, and dresses their wounds with her own hands whenthe surgeons are busy. And, indeed, they need all the help they canget, for the sick and wounded increase upon their hands daily. "

"They shall have fruit!" cried Wolfe eagerly. "We had a ship arriveto help the squadron, and she came laden with pines from the WestIndies. We will send in a quantity to Madame Drucour under a flagof truce. We may be forced to fight our fellow men, but we need notforget that they are of the same flesh and blood as ourselves. Anhonourable foe is second only to a friend. "

"Madame will be grateful for any such act of courtesy, I am sure, "replied Julian. "She is a noble lady--gracious, beautiful, andbrave. She spoke good words to me, little knowing who I was. Itmade me feel something treacherous to accept her courtesies, knowing myself for a spy. But yet I have not hurt them by myspying; I can see that the defence cannot long be maintained bythose within the walls. Beyond that I have little to say. The firesby day and night tell of the destruction and havoc our guns aremaking. It needs no spy to report that. "

General Amherst was keenly interested next day in hearing the storyJulian had to tell, and was ready and eager to send a present offruit and other dainties for the sick to Madame Drucour. Undercover of a flag of truce the convoy was dispatched, and for half aday the guns on both sides ceased firing. 

In addition to the fruit the General sent a very polite letter tothe lady, expressing his regret for the annoyance and anxiety shemust be experiencing, and sending a number of small billets andmessages from wounded Frenchmen in their hands to their friends inthe city. 

The messengers returned bearing with them a basket and a note. Thebasket contained some bottles of choice wine for the General'stable, and the letter, written by Madame Drucour herself, wascouched in terms of courtesy and gratitude. She declared that thefruit for the sick was just the very thing she had been mostdesiring, and wondered what bird of the air had whispered themessage into the ear of the noble English officer. As for the waritself, deplorable as it must always be, the knowledge that theywere fighting against a generous and worthy foe could not but be asource of happiness; and, in conclusion, the lady added that theyhad within the walls of Louisbourg a surgeon of uncommon skill withgunshot wounds, and that his services should always be at thecommand of any English officer who might desire them. 

"That is like her!" exclaimed Julian to Wolfe, when the terms ofthe letter were made known. "She is a very noble and gracious lady, and I trust and hope no hurt will come to her. But she exposesherself to many perils in the hope of cheering and heartening upthe men. They all fight better for the knowledge that she is nearthem; and she goes her daily rounds of the ramparts, be the firingever so hot!"

The cannon were roaring again now from both lines of batteries. Thedoomed fortress was holding out gallantly, and had as yet given nosign of surrender. 

Wolfe was hard at work, day after day, drawing his lines closer andcloser. His military genius showed itself in every disposition ofhis lines and batteries. He saw at a glance exactly what should bedone, and set to work to do it in the best possible way. 

"How many ships have they in the harbour?" he asked of Julian, twodays after his return from the town. 

"Only two of any size--the Bienfaisant and the Prudent. The resthave been sunk or destroyed. "

"I think we had better make an end of those two, " said Wolfethoughtfully. 

"It might not be a task of great difficulty, if it could be donesecretly, " said Julian. "The soldiers are mostly on land. They needthem more in the citadel than on board; and they think the shipsare safe, lying as they do under their own batteries. If we couldget a dull or foggy night, we might make a dash at them. We canenter the harbour now that the Island battery is silenced and thefrigate Arethuse gone. They say the sailors on board the ships arelonging for a task. They would rejoice to accomplish something ofthat sort. "

"Get me ready a boat, and you and Humphrey row me out to our fleetyonder, " said Wolfe, looking out over the wide expanse of bluebeyond the harbour. "I will speak of this with the Admiral, and seewhat he thinks of the undertaking. "

They rowed him out from Flat Point to the flagship, and put him onboard. It was a fine sight to see the great battleships anchored inthe bay, ready to take their part in the struggle at a word ofcommand. But the French fleet had done little or nothing to harassthem. They were complete masters of the deep. Even the ships in theharbour had not ventured out, and now only two of them remained. 

"There will be none tomorrow, if this sea mist comes down, " saidWolfe, with a little grim smile, as he entered the boat again. "Rowme to the harbour's mouth; I would take a look for myself at theposition of the vessels. "

The sun was shining brilliantly upon land, but over the sea therewas a little haze, which seemed disposed to increase. It had beenso for two or three days, the fog coming thicker at night. Wolfelooked keenly about him as he reached the mouth of the harbour. Hedid not attempt to enter it, but sat looking before him withintent, critical gaze. 

"I see, " he remarked, after a pause. "Now row me once more to theflagship, and so back. The thing can be done. "

Promptitude was one of Wolfe's characteristics; he never let grassgrow under his feet. If the thing was to be done, let it be done atonce; and the British tar is never a laggard when there is fightingor adventure to be had!

Julian and Humphrey volunteered for the service. Humphrey was afavourite with the sailors, having been employed almost constantlyin carrying messages to and from the fleet, or in helping to landtransports. He was as expert now in the management of a boat as thebest of the jack tars, and was eager to take part in the daringenterprise which was to be carried out that night. 

Six hundred sailors, collected from different vessels, were to betold off for the task. They set to work with hearty goodwill, muffling their oars, and preparing for their noiseless advance intothe harbour. The guns would roar ceaselessly overhead. That woulddo much to drown any sound from the water. Still, care and cautionwould have to be exercised; for the batteries of the fortresscommanded the harbour, and the ships lay beneath their protectingguns. If the little flotilla betrayed its approach by any unguardedsound, it might easily be annihilated before ever it could approachits goal. So that the task set the hardy sailors was not withoutits distinct element of peril, which was perhaps its chiefestattraction. 

The shades of night gathered slowly over land and sea. It seemed toHumphrey and some of those waiting in the boats as though night hadnever fallen so slowly before. But their eyes were gladdened by thesight of the soft fog wreaths which crept over the water as thedusk fell, lying upon it like a soft blanket, and blotting out thedistance as much as the darkness could do. 

It was not a heavy fog. The sailors were in no danger of losingtheir way as they rowed, first for the harbour mouth, and then forthe two French warships at anchor beneath the batteries. But it wasthick enough to hide their approach from those on land. It was notprobable that even the crews of the vessels would be aware of theirclose proximity till the word to board was given. Unless someaccidental and unguarded sound betrayed their advance, they mightin all likelihood carry all before them by a surprise movement. 

Julian was in the same boat as the officer in command of theexpedition. His intimate knowledge of the position of the warvessels would be of use in this murk and darkness. Humphrey took anoar in the same boat; and the little fleet got together, andcommenced its silent voyage just as the clocks of the fortressboomed out the midnight hour. 

It was a strange, ghostly voyage. There was a moon in the skyoverhead, and the outlines of the hills and batteries, and even ofthe fortress itself, could be distinguished wherever the groundrose high enough; but wreaths of white vapour lay lazily along thewater, or seemed to curl slowly upwards like smoke from some fire, and the boats rowed along in the encircling mist, only able to gainglimpses from time to time of the moonlit world as a puff of winddrove the vapour away from their path and gave them a transitoryoutlook upon their surroundings. 

The dull roar of the guns filled the air. Sometimes the batterieswere silent at night; but Wolfe kept things alive on this occasion, in order to cover the approach of the boarding party. Now the mouthof the harbour was reached, and the little fleet gathered itselfmore compactly together, and the muffling of the oars was carefullylooked to. Directions as to the order to be observed had been givenbefore, and the boats fell into their appointed position withquickness and accuracy. 

Julian took the helm of the leading boat, and steered it across theharbour towards the anchored vessels. He knew exactly where and howthey lay. And soon the little flotilla was lying compactlytogether, its presence all unsuspected, within a cable's length ofthe two battleships. 

Now the time for concealment was over. The men seized their arms inreadiness. The boats dashed through the water at full speed. Thenext moment hundreds of hardy British sailors were swarming up thesides of the French vessels, uttering cheers and shouts of triumphthe while. 

Humphrey and Julian were amongst the first to spring upon the deckof the Bienfaisant. The startled crew were just rushing up frombelow, having been made aware of the peril only a few secondsearlier. Some of them were but half dressed; few of them knew whatit was that was happening. They found themselves confronted byEnglish sailors with dirk and musket. Sharp firing, shouts, curses, cries, made the night hideous for a few minutes, and then a ringingvoice called out in French:

"Surrender the vessels, and your lives shall be spared. "

It was Julian who cried these words at the command of the officer, and there was no resistance possible for the overpowered crew. Thesoldiers were on shore within the fort. They were but a handful ofmen in comparison with their English assailants. It was impossibleto dispute possession. 

"Take to your boats and go ashore, and you shall not be molested, "was the next cry; and the men were forced to obey, the fightinghaving lasted only a very brief space: for it was evident from thefirst that the English were masters, and needless carnage was notdesired by them. 

Nevertheless the peril to the English sailors was by no means overyet. The guns in the battery now opened fire upon the fleet ofboats, and a hailstorm of shot and shell raged round them; so thatthe French sailors dared not leave the vessel, but crowded belowout of the hot fire, preferring to trust to the tender mercies oftheir captors rather than to the guns of their countrymen. 

"Tow her away under one of our own batteries, " was the order, givenas coolly as though this leaden rain were nothing but a summershower. 

Humphrey sprang to the side, and cut the cable which anchored herto her moorings. Just at that moment a glow of light through thefog fell across the deck, and looking up he saw a pillar of flamerising from the water close at hand, and casting strange lights andshadows upon the shifting mists which enwrapped them. 

"They have fired the Prudent!" exclaimed Julian. "Now we shall havelight for our task; but we shall be a better target for the enemy'sfire. We must lose no time. Cut loose the second cable; we shouldbe moving. See that the boats are all ready to tow us along. What agrand sight that burning ship is!

"Ah, I see now. She is aground with the ebb tide. They could notmove her, so they have fired her instead. There are her boatsrowing for shore with her crew in them!"

It was a strange, grand sight, watching the flames enwrap thedoomed vessel from stem to stern, till she was one sheet of rosylight. Even the guns from shore had ceased to fire for a briefspace, as though the gunners were watching the weird spectacle ofthe illuminated fog, or were perhaps afraid lest their fire shouldhurt their own comrades in the boats. But the English sailors tookadvantage of the lull to set to their task of towing theBienfaisant with hearty goodwill. 

"She moves! she moves!" cried Humphrey excitedly, standing at thewheel to direct her course. "Well pulled, comrades--well pulledindeed! Ah, their guns are going to speak again! They will not letus go without a parting salute. "

The batteries on shore opened their mouths, and belched forth flameand smoke. The ship staggered beneath the leaden hail; but the gunswere too high to do mischief to the boats upon the water, and thesailors replied by a lusty cheer. Julian wiped away a few drops ofblood that trickled down his face from a slight cut on his temple;but for the most part the shot struck only the spars and rigging, whistling harmlessly over the heads of the men on deck, who laughedand cheered as they encouraged their comrades in the boats to rowtheir hardest and get beyond reach of the enemy's fire. 

Wolfe had planted a battery himself just lately which commanded apart of the harbour, and beneath this sheltering battery theBienfaisant was towed, whilst the sailors cheered might and main;and once out of reach of the enemy's fire, rested on their oars andwatched the grand illumination of the flame-wrapped Prudent. 

"If war is a horrible thing, " said Julian reflectively to Humphrey, "it has at least its grand sights. Look at the red glare upon theshifting fog banks! Is it not like some wild diabolic carnival? Onecould fancy one saw the forms of demons flitting to and fro in allthat reek and glare. "

Humphrey's grave young face wore a rather stern look. 

"I have seen other fires than that, and heard of those I have notseen--fires the memory of which will live in my heart for years andyears! If we burn the vessels of the French, is it not because theyhave hounded on the Indians to burn our homesteads, ay, and withthem our defenceless wives and children, mothers and sisters? Shallnot deeds like these bring about a stern retaliation? Are we nothere to take vengeance upon those who have been treacherous foes, and shamed the Christian profession that they make? Shall we pityor spare when we remember what they have done? The blood of ourbrothers cries out to us. We do but repay them in their own coin. "

"Yes, " returned Julian thoughtfully; "there is a stern law ofreaping and sowing ordained of God Himself. We may well believethat we are instruments in His hands for the carrying out of Hispurpose. Yet we must seek always to be led of Him, and not to takematters into our own hands. 'Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saiththe Lord. '"

"I believe He will, " said Humphrey, with a flash in his eyes; "butgive it to me to be there to see!"

"As I think we shall, " answered Julian, "for I believe that the keyof the war will lie next at Quebec. Whoever holds that, holds thepower in Canada, and from Canada can command the western frontier. And the taking of Quebec is the object upon which the mind of Wolfeis firmly set. You know how often he has said to us, 'If I couldachieve that, I could say my Nunc Dimittis with joy andthankfulness. ' I believe in my heart that he will live to see thatglorious victory for England's arms. "

Wolfe was waiting upon the strand for the boat which brought Julianand Humphrey back with the details of the victorious enterprise. Hegrasped them both by the hand. 

"Now I think that surrender cannot much longer be delayed, and, intruth, I hope it will not be. News has reached us from the west ofsome great disaster at Ticonderoga. It is but the voice of rumour. A light fishing smack brought letters to the General this evening, dated from Albany, and sent by special messenger. Nothing definiteis known; but they report a disastrous defeat, attributed to theuntimely death of Lord Howe quite early in the expedition. I cannotsay what truth there may be in this, but I fear some great disasterhas recently taken place. It has made the General and his officersvery stern and resolved. England's honour has been sorely tarnishedby these many defeats. But I believe her star will rise again. Louisbourg at least must fall ere long. "

Julian and Humphrey were both filled with sorrow and anxiety atthis piece of news. Charles and Fritz were both likely, theythought, if living still, to be there with the army; and one wasanxious for news of his brother, and the other of his comrade andfriend. 

"When Louisbourg is taken, " said Humphrey, "I shall ask leave ofabsence to go to seek my brother. My sister in Philadelphia willgive me tidings of him. I shall go thither, and come back when theattempt upon proud Quebec is made. "

"If I had my way, we should sail from Louisbourg straight forQuebec, " cried Wolfe, with a flash in his eyes. "I would follow upone blow by another. Yet I know not whether our instructions willcarry us thus far. Nevertheless, I hope to live to see the day whenthe English flag shall wave over the ramparts of that city andfortress which has been called the Impregnable. "

The news, rumour though it was and unconfirmed, of fresh disasterto the English arms in the interior excited much feeling in theEnglish ranks. Had there been another massacre, such as haddisgraced the struggle at Fort William Henry? What would be thenext tidings which would reach them of their brethren in arms?

There had been so many tales of horror told out in the wild westthat strong men often shuddered at the bare thought of what theymight have to bear. So the faces of men and officers were alikestern and dark; and when the white flag fluttered at last from thewalls of Louisbourg, and the news ran like wildfire through thecamp that the fortress was about to surrender, there was a feelingin all hearts that the terms granted should not be too easy. Franceowed England a deep and mighty debt, which sooner or later she mustpay. 

Wolfe was sent for to be with General Amherst when he received thedeputation of the French, and he returned to his quarters lookinggrave and thoughtful. 

"We have told them that they must surrender as prisoners of war, and send their reply within an hour. If they refuse, we attack atonce both by land and sea. We are all resolved that the siege shallbe brought to an end. If we could have been here a month earlier, we might have effected a junction with our friends in the west, andhave averted the calamity which has overtaken them there. "

"Will they accept?" asked Julian eagerly. "They are in a sorestrait, but yet they are brave men. They might, perhaps, havelooked to be permitted to march out with the honours of war aftertheir bold defence. "

"Yes; and this would have been granted them had it not been forwhat happened at Fort William Henry. But the memory of that daycannot be wiped out from the memory of our officers, The Generalwas supported by the bulk of his officers. They will have noconditions. They will treat the sick and the wounded and the townspeople with every consideration, but they will be absolute masters. The Admiral was there, and he and the General signed the note. Theyare resolved to abide by its contents. "

Excitement reigned everywhere. The firing had ceased, and thestillness of the air was like that which sometimes precedes thebursting of a thunderstorm, What reply would the fort return? andhow quickly would it arrive? It was understood that, in the eventof delay, a general assault would be made, and some of the soldierswould have eagerly welcomed the order for the advance. 

Keen excitement prevailed when it became known that a messenger hadcome, not bringing the expected reply, but one asking for lessrigorous terms. 

"The General would not see him, " was the cry. "He was sent back tosay that nothing would be changed from the last letter addressed tothe Governor. The Admiral and General are alike agreed. There willbe no wavering from that. "

It was plain that there was some variance in the city itself. Inthe ranks of the besieging force there was intense excitement andstir. Every man was looking to his arms, save when he was askingnews and gazing towards the walls of the city. That somethingdecisive must soon be settled was apparent to all. 

The white flag again! A messenger was coming out towards the campwith the reply. He appeared in no haste, and paused again and againto look back. Suddenly another man appeared running hastily afterhim. The first messenger paused, consulted with him, and thenturned back towards the city. The second man ran on alone, makingvehement signs, as though afraid there might yet be somemisunderstanding. 

"We accept! we accept!" he shouted out, waving a paper above hishead, beside himself with excitement. 

Two men followed him; they were taken into the tent of the General, who, with the Admiral, was awaiting the final answer. But the firstmessenger remained without, panting and exhausted, and Julianinstantly recognized him as an officer who had shown him somekindness during his short stay within the fortress. 

He came up to him now, and the recognition was mutual. 

"So you were a spy all the while, my friend!" said the Frenchman, with something like a grim laugh. "Had we known that, you wouldhave received a different welcome. Ah well, it matters little now. And it is a pity for brave men to die like dogs. We were in a sadpass before. You could not have told much that was not alreadyknown. "

"The fortress is ready to capitulate?"

"Not the fortress, but the town. Bad as our condition is, we wouldnot have surrendered on those terms. We had indeed dispatched amessenger to say as much. But the Provost and the citizens were toomany for us. They ran to the citadel, and made such work that theGovernor yielded, and I offered, being fleet of foot, to run afterthe messenger and stop him if it could be done. Luckily his ownheart misgave him, and he had not hurried. And close upon my heelswere sent others with more definite instructions. And thusLouisbourg passes into the hands of gallant foes. But I trust theywill show every courtesy to our brave Madame. "

"Have no fear on that score, " answered Julian; "I have told in theEnglish camp of the bravery and gracious kindness of Madame leGeneral. Our commander will see that she is treated with everyconsideration; as also the sick and wounded, her special charge. Itis well not to drive us to assault the weakened town. Now we shallenter as friends rather than foes. "

"So said the Provost, remembering that the English have much causeof complaint against us. We cannot deny that ourselves. Ah me! itis the chance of war. We have had our triumphs, and now you haveyour turn. It is not here but at Quebec that the real trial ofstrength will be. I think, my friends, you will find that you havea hard nut to crack there. "

"So they said of Louisbourg, and yet that has been done, " answeredJulian, with a smile. "But come in, and refresh yourself in my tenthere whilst the messengers are conferring with our General. Theywill have to draw up terms of capitulation. There will be time toget a good meal whilst that is being done. "

At dawn the following morning the drums beat. The English soldiersgot into order, and marched through the Dauphin gate into the town. The French soldiers, drawn up in array, threw down their muskets, and with tears of mortification marched away, leaving the victorsin possession. 

The English flag was run up, amid wild cheering, and floated overthe grim and shattered ramparts. The turn of the tide had come atlast, and Louisbourg had fallen into the hands of the English. 

Chapter 4: The Fruits Of Victory. 

Wolfe lay upon a couch in a comfortable apartment, such as he hadnot inhabited since he set sail from England months ago. It was inthe citadel itself--in the heart of the King's Bastion, where theGovernor had his quarters. 

Wolfe had been the life and soul of the siege. To his genius andindomitable resolution the victory of the English arms had beenlargely due. He had forced himself to take the lead, and had toilednight and day in the crisis of the struggle and the final triumph;and even after the victors had marched in, his eyes seemed to beeverywhere, enforcing discipline, preventing any sort of disorderor licence amongst the soldiers, and sternly repressing thesmallest attempt on their part to plunder the townsfolk, or takethe slightest advantage of their helpless condition. 

He had specially seen to the condition of the sick and wounded, insuring them the same care as was given to the English in likecase. This had been one of the articles of the capitulation, but itwas one which was in like cases too often carelessly carried out, sometimes almost ignored. 

Wolfe with his own eyes saw that there was no shirking, nomismanagement here. He seemed to be everywhere at once during thosebusy days which followed the entrance into the town. But outragednature would have her revenge at last, and for three days he hadlain helpless and suffering in the room assigned to him in theGovernor's house, watched over and tended by Julian, who had bythis time come to have a very adequate idea as to the treatmentmost needed by him when those attacks came on. 

The cool of the evening had followed upon the heat of a very sultryday, which had greatly tried the sufferer. Wolfe looked up, and sawhis friend beside him, and smiled in recognition of his attentions. 

"You are always here, Julian; you must surely want rest yourself. You have been here night and day. I know it even though I may notseem to do so. But I shall be on my legs again soon. I can feelthat the access of pain is abating. How have things been going inthe town since I was laid by the heels?"

"Oh well, several vessels with their load of prisoners have alreadysailed for England; many of the townsfolk and merchants havestarted, or are starting, for France; some regiments of our men areto be sent at once to reinforce General Abercromby. I fear by allaccounts that they will come too late to be of any real use for thecampaign this season. It is quite true that he suffered a crushingdefeat at Ticonderoga, due, as many of the officers say, to badgeneralship. Still he will doubtless be glad of support in thewilderness, wherever he may be. Humphrey is to start with the firstdetachment; he expects his orders for departure daily. "

Wolfe raised himself upon his elbow and sat up, despite hisweakness, fired by excitement and energy. 

"But Quebec, Quebec, Quebec!" he exclaimed; "surely we are goingforward to Quebec?"

Julian shook his head doubtfully. 

"I fear me not at least this present season. I hear it said thatGeneral Amherst was ready, but that the Admiral was against it forthe present. They say there is still much to do in subduing theadjacent possessions of France in these lands, and so paving theway for the greater enterprise. Various officers are to be senthither and thither upon expeditions to small settlements, to uprootor destroy them. When this has been done, perhaps the move toQuebec will be made. But I fear me it will not be before nextyear. "

Wolfe made a gesture of irritation and impatience. 

"Have we not yet had enough of procrastination?" he questionedbitterly. "Will England never learn the lesson which her reversesshould have taught her? What boots the victory we have gained here, if it be not the stepping stone to lead us to Quebec?"

"Who speaks of Quebec?" asked a clear, musical voice at thehalf-open door; and Julian sprang to his feet, exclaiming as he didso:

"It is Madame Drucour! she has come every day to see and inquireafter you. "

Hearing the sound of her name, the lady pushed open the door andentered--a graceful, stately figure clothed all in black; herbeautiful face worn and pale, and trouble lurking in the depths ofher hazel eyes; yet calm and serene and noble of aspect as shemoved forward and held out a slim white hand to the patient. 

"You are better, Monsieur?" she asked, in her full, rich tones. "Itrust that the suffering is less than it was. The fever, I can see, has abated somewhat. "

Wolfe carried the hand he held to his lips. In common with all theofficers who had made her acquaintance, Wolfe had come to have avery high opinion of Madame Drucour. 

"I thank you, gracious lady, for your condescension in asking. Itrust soon to be restored to such measure of health and strength asI ever enjoy. At best I am but a cranky creature; but with quarterssuch as these I should be worse than ungrateful if I did not mend. I trust my presence here has caused you no inconvenience; for trulyI believe that I am in your house, and that I owe to you thecomforts I enjoy. "

She gave a strange little smile as she seated herself beside him. 

"In truth, Monsieur, I know not what I may call my own today. Thistown and fortress are now no longer ours, and we are but hereourselves on sufferance--prisoners of war--"

"Nay, nay, not prisoners--not you, Madame, " answered Wolfe hastily. "We war not against women--least of all such noble ladies asyourself!"

She acknowledged this speech by a little motion of the head, andthen continued, in a tone at once sorrowful and dignified: "Icannot separate myself from those amongst whom I have lived for solong. I acknowledge with gratitude the courtesy I have receivedfrom all. I know that my personal liberty is assured to me. But myheart will always be where there is need of help by my owncountrymen. If not a prisoner to the English, I am held in otherbonds. "

"Ah yes, " answered Wolfe, with an answering sparkle in his eye;"that I understand well. We are all bound to our country in bondsthat cannot be severed. And yet we are bound to the common cause ofhumanity, and there we meet on common ground. We need not rememberanything else at such a time, Madame. We serve in one army there. Do not our wounded as well as your own bless the sight of your faceand the sound of your voice amongst them?"

"And have they not cause to bless the name of that brave officerwho, in spite of his own weakness and suffering, would not restuntil he had seen in person that all were cared for--foes as wellas friends? Yes, truly, Monsieur, in one warfare we can stand uponthe same side, and fight the same battle against disease andsuffering and death. I would that this were the only kind ofwarfare that is known in the world!"

"And I too--sometimes, " replied Wolfe, lying back again on hispillows and looking dreamily out before him. "There are moments, itis true, when the battle fever works in a man's blood, and warseems to him then a glorious game. But it has its terrible andhateful side, as every soldier knows well. And yet the day seemsfar away when wars shall be no more. "

"Indeed yes, " answered Madame Drucour, with a little sigh; "we havea sorrowful prospect before us yet. What was the word which I heardyou speak as I entered? Was it not of that projected march uponQuebec?"

"It was, " answered Wolfe frankly. "I may not deny, Madame, that thelonging of my heart at this moment is to try conclusions with yourgallant countrymen beneath the walls of Quebec. "

"You are bold, Monsieur, " said Madame Drucour, with a little smile. 

"You know Quebec, Madame?"

"Very well. It is there that I purpose going with my husband whenthe exchange is completed which gives him his liberty. I haverelatives there, and I go to be with them when duty may call myhusband elsewhere. If you come to Quebec, Monsieur, we mayperchance meet again. "

"It will be something happy to look forward to. "

"There is always joy in feeling that the foe we fight is a nobleand generous one. I shall tell in Quebec how the English General, though stern in his terms of capitulation, refused to me nothingthat I asked when once the town was given up, and how generously heand all his officers showed themselves, and in especialone--Brigadier Wolfe!"

The young man bowed at the compliment. 

"And I, on my side, shall know that if Madame Drucour is within thewalls of Quebec, no garrison can fail to be gallant and devoted. Such an example before their eyes would put heart and heroism intothe most faint hearted. "

A very sincere liking grew up between Madame Drucour and her guestsbefore Wolfe was on his legs again, and able to return to hisquarters amongst his men. Indeed, his happiest hours were spent inthe company of that lady, for there was much to vex and try himwhen in the camp. 

There was to be no move upon Quebec that season and Wolfe chafedrather bitterly at the decision, and wrote to General Amherst instronger terms than most subordinate officers would have venturedto do. He even spoke of throwing up the service, if nothing were tobe done at such a critical time; but the General would not hear oflosing so valuable an officer, and indeed, in spite of theirritability sometimes engendered by his ill-health, Wolfe was toomuch the soldier at heart ever to abandon his calling. 

It was, however, rather hard to one of his ardent and chivalroustemperament, eager for the great blow to be struck against Quebec, to be deputed to harry and destroy a number of little fishingsettlements along the Gulf of St. Lawrence--which measure heconsidered a needless severity, and hated accordingly. It was arelief to him to know that Pitt, having heard of his severe bout ofillness after the taking of Louisbourg, had summoned him back toEngland to recruit his health. 

"When we have finished our great exploit of robbing fishermen oftheir nets and burning their huts, we will to England again, Julian; and you will come with me, my trusty comrade and friend. Ifwe are spreading the terror of England's name here, we are notadding to her laurels. Let me remain at home till there be realwarfare to accomplish, and then let me come out again. This task isodious and sickening to me. Were it not that another might showmore harshness and barbarity over it, I would e'en decline themission. "

Humphrey had already left Louisbourg for Philadelphia and thewestern frontier; but Julian had elected to remain with Wolfe, whohad come to depend upon him in no small measure. There wassomething in the temperaments of the two men which made themcongenial one to the other. Wolfe's restless irritability wassoothed by Julian's quiet calmness, and there was in both men astrain of ardent patriotism and self devotion which gave themsympathies in common. 

Together they set sail for England when the soldier's work wasdone, and after a fairly prosperous voyage they landed in thatcountry, and immediately started for Bath, where Wolfe hoped tofind relief from his rheumatic troubles, and gain the strengthwhich he had lost during this hard campaign. 

"I think my mother will be awaiting me there this time, " he said, with a light in his eyes. "You have never seen my mother yet, Julian. Ah, how I long to see her again! she has been such a motherto me! There are times when I think if I have to give up thisprofession of arms, and take to a quiet life, I could have a veryhappy life at home with my mother. We suit each other so well, andwe are like each other in our foibles and weaknesses. I think Ihave inherited my cranky health from her, but not her beauty. Youwill see for yourself how little like her I am in that respect whenwe get home. "

To Julian, who had known nothing of the joys of home since he lefthis valley in the far south of the Western world, and who had nohome to call his own now, there was something touching in theeagerness of Wolfe to reach his home and his mother. His father wasnot likely to be there. He would almost certainly be either inKent, or else abroad; for he still held a command in the army, andthe war on the Continent was still raging furiously. But the motherwould be awaiting her son in the house he had written to ask her tosecure for him again. It was within easy reach of the town, and yetit was quiet and secluded, and suited his tastes and habits. 

It was almost dark one murky autumn evening when the lumberingcoach, which had conveyed the friends the last stages of theirjourney, drew up at the door of the house. Lights shone in thewindows, and from the open door there streamed out a glowing shaftof yellow light, bespeaking the warm welcome awaiting the tiredtraveller. 

Wolfe had been weary to the verge of exhaustion when they hadabandoned the attempt to ride the whole distance, and had securedthe heavy coach; but now he seemed to revive to new life, and hesprang from it with some of the activity of youth and strength. 

"Mother--there is my mother!" he exclaimed; and Julian saw him takethe steps two at a time, to meet the advancing greeting from themother who had come to welcome home her son. 

Mrs. Wolfe was a distinctly beautiful woman, whose beauty had beenbut little dimmed by time. There was a sweet, matronly repose abouther, and the brightness of her red-gold hair was dashed withstreaks of soft grey beneath the laces with which it was crowned. But her complexion was clear and fair, and there was a look of softfragility about her which made the son's protecting air ofsolicitude a natural and appropriate one. She folded him in herarms in a long, rapturous embrace; and Julian stood silently by thewhile, reverent of that deep love which for the moment could findno expression save in the whispered words:

"Mother! mother! mother!"

"My son--my dear boy! my son come back to me!"

When the lady turned at length to greet the silent figure who stoodsilently watching this meeting, Julian could see that the tearswere standing upon her cheeks and sparkling in her eyes. 

"You will pardon me, sir, for this apparent neglect, " she saidsweetly, putting her thin jewelled fingers into Julian's hand; "butwhen my boy goes forth to the fight, I never know whether it willbe God's will to send him back to me safe and sound. A mother'sheart cannot but be full upon a day like this. But second only tomy joy in welcoming him back is this of making acquaintance withthe trusty friend who has been so much to him during his perils andlabours. "

"Madam, it has been the joy and honour of my life to be able toserve so great a soldier and so noble a man!"

The warm clasp upon his fingers gave the mother's answer to this;and then they all moved within the lighted hall, where a glowingfire and a number of candles gave bright illumination, and wherequite a hubbub of welcome was going on. The servants were pressingforward to see and greet their young master, who had come homecrowned with laurels. It was known by this time in England how muchof the success at Louisbourg had been due to Wolfe's unfailingenergy and intrepidity. He was a hero at home as well as abroad, though he had hardly realized it yet. Moreover, he was vociferouslywelcomed by his dogs, all of whom had been brought by his mother tomeet their master again; and he had much ado to return the manifoldgreetings bestowed upon him, and to free himself at last from thedemonstrative affection of his canine friends. 

A plentiful supper was awaiting the wearied travellers; and it waswhen they had put in order their dress and entered the dining roomthat they were aware of the presence of another lady, a veryhandsome, dark-eyed girl, who stood beside the glowing fireregarding their entrance with looks of unaffected interest. 

"My dear, " said Mrs. Wolfe, "let me present to you my son James, ofwhom you know much, although you have never met; and his friend andcompanion, Lieutenant Julian Dautray, whose name is equally knownto you. 

"This, James, is Miss Kate Lowther, the daughter of an old friendof ours, who has left her in my charge whilst he takes a lastvoyage to Barbados, where once he was Governor, to be my daughterand companion till he comes back to claim her. "

The bright-eyed girl dropped a courtesy to the gentlemen, who bowedlow before her; but then holding out her hand frankly to Wolfe, shesaid in a clear, fresh voice. 

"I am so glad to see you, Cousin James. I am going to call you thatbecause I call your mother Aunt, and she has given me leave to doso. I know so much about you from your letters. I have copied everyone of them to send to your father, for Aunt will not part with theoriginals even for him! I know all about Louisbourg, and thebatteries, and the ships, and the big guns. Oh, I think if I were aman I could become an officer at once, and command a great campaignlike that one! We had such rejoicings here when the news came! itwas like new life to us. We had heard of that dreadful defeat atTiconderoga, and it seemed as though England was never to rise fromthe dust of humiliation. It was openly said that Louisbourg wouldnever fall; that it was as impregnable as Quebec. Oh, there wassuch lugubrious talk! And then came the news of the victory, and ofBrigadier Wolfe's valiant and doughty deeds. You may guess how yourmother's eyes shone at that! And all England echoed to the sound ofyour name!"

"A name more formidable in sound than in reality, " spoke Wolfe, laughing, but cheered and pleased by the sincere and prettyenthusiasm of the winning girl. "When those who have kindly admiredme from the distance come to inspect me in person, what a shockthey will receive! We shall have to palm Julian here off as theright man; he will play the part with much more dignity and grace. "

Kate looked from one to the other laughing. 

"What do you expect me to say to that? Lieutenant Dautray looksevery inch a soldier; but I think, Cousin James, that you have theair of the man born to command. "

"In spite of my cropped red head and lanky limbs? I am proud of thecompliment paid me. "

Wolfe was certainly rather taken aback to find himself a man of somuch mark when he showed himself in Bath. He had quite an ovationwhen first he appeared at the Pump Room; and although he was in ameasure accustomed to lead a public life, and to be the object ofattention and even admiration, he shrank from having this carriedinto his private life, and was happiest at home with his mother andfriend, and with bright Kate Lowther, with whom he soon becamewonderfully intimate. 

The girl's sincere affection for his frail and delicate motherwould in any case have won his heart; but there was somethingexceedingly attractive in her whole personality and in her eagerinterest in his past career and in the fortunes of the war. Shewould sit for hours beside him whilst he related to his mother theincidents of the campaign, and her questions and comments showed aquick intelligence and ready sympathy that were a never-failingsource of interest to him. 

Her strength and vitality were refreshing to one who was himselfalmost always weak and suffering. He would watch her at play withthe dogs in the garden, or up and down the staircase, and delightin the grace and vigour of her movements. She would come in fromher walks and rides with a glow upon her face and a light in hereyes, and sitting down beside him would relate all that hadbefallen her since her departure an hour or two before--tellingeverything in so racy and lively a fashion that it became thechiefest pleasure of Wolfe's life to lie and look at her and listento her conversation. 

Christmas was close upon them. It would be a bright and happyseason for mother and son, spent together after their longseparation. Upon the eve of that day Kate came eagerly in with alarge official letter in her hand, addressed to the soldier. It wasa moment of excitement whilst he opened it, for it was known thathe had been corresponding latterly with several ministersrespecting the proposed expedition against Quebec, and all knew howdear to his heart was the fulfilment of that daring scheme. 

As he read the document his cheek flushed. He sat up more erect inhis chair, and there came into his face a look which his soldierswell knew. It was always to be seen there when he led them intobattle. 

"Mother, " he said very quietly, "Mr. Pitt has chosen me to commandthe expedition now fitting out against Quebec. "

Mrs. Wolfe gave a little gasp, the tears springing to her eyes; butover Kate's face there spread a deep, beautiful flush, and shegrasped the young man by the hand, exclaiming:

"O Cousin James, how glad I am! What a splendid victory it willbe!"

"If it be won!" he said, looking up at her with kindling eyes. "Butthere is always an 'if' in the case. "

"There will be none when you are in command, " answered Kate, with aring of proud assurance in her voice. "Had you been commander ofthe Louisbourg expedition, Quebec would have been ours by now. "

Their eyes met. In hers he read unbounded admiration and faith. Itthrilled him strangely. It brought a look of new purpose into hisface. He held her hand, and she left it lying in his clasp. He washolding it still when he turned to his mother. 

"Are you not glad, mother mine?" he asked gently. 

"Oh yes, my son--glad and proud of the honour done you, of theappreciation shown of your worth and service. But how will you beable to undergo all that fatigue, and the perils and sufferings ofanother voyage? That is what goes to my heart. You are so littlefit for it all!"

"I have found that a man can always be fit for his duty, " saidWolfe gravely. "Is not that so, Kate?"

"With you it is, " she answered, with another of her wonderfulglances; and the mother, watching the faces of the pair, rose fromher seat and crept from the room. Her heart was at once glad andsorrowful, proud and heavy; she felt that she must ease it with alittle weeping before she could talk of this great thing with thespirit her son would look to find in her. 

Wolfe and Kate were left alone together. He got possession of herother hand. She was standing before him still, a beautiful bloomupon her face, her eyes shining like stars. 

"You are pleased with all this, my Kate?" he asked; and he let thelast words escape him unconsciously. 

"Pleased that your country should do you this great honour? Ofcourse I am pleased. You have deserved it at her hands; yet men donot always get their deserts in this world. "

"No; and you must not think that there are not hundreds of betterand braver men than myself in our army, or that I am a verywonderful person. I have got the wish of my heart--it has beengranted to me more fully than I ever looked to see it; but howoften do we see in the hour of triumph that there is somethingbitter in the cup, something we had not looked to find there. Threemonths ago I was burning to sail for Quebec, and now--"

He paused for a moment, and she looked full at him. 

"Surely you have not changed. You want to go; your heart is setupon it!"

"Yes, " he answered gravely: "my wish and purpose have neverwavered; but now my heart is divided. Once it beat only for mycountry, and the clash of arms was music in my ears; now it hasfound a rival elsewhere. If I go to Quebec, I must leave youbehind, my Kate!"

Suddenly into her bright eyes there sprang the smart of tears. Sheclasped the hands that held hers and pressed them closely. 

"It will not be for long, " she said; "you will return covered withglory and renown!"

"It may be so, it may be so; yet who can tell? Think how manygallant soldiers have been left behind upon that great continent:Braddock, Howe--oh, I could name many others less known to fame, perhaps, but gallant soldiers all. We go out with our lives in ourhand, and so many never return!"

The tears began to fall slowly in sparkling drops. She could notrelease her hands to wipe them away. 

"Do not speak so, James; it is not like you! Why do you try tobreak my heart?"

"Would you care so much, so much, were I to find a soldier'sgrave?"

A quick sob was her reply. She turned her head away. 

"Kate, do you love me?"

"I think you know that I do, James. "

"I have begun to hope, and yet I have scarcely dared. You so fullof life and strength and beauty, and I such a broken crock!"

"A hero, you mean!" she answered, with flashing eyes--"a soldierand a hero; tenfold more a hero in that you overcome pain andweakness, sickness and suffering, in the discharge of your duty, and do things that others would declare impossible! Oh yes, I haveheard of you; Lieutenant Dautray has told me. I know how you havedone the impossible again and yet again. James, you will do thisonce again. You will storm that great fortress which men callimpregnable--you will storm it and you will vanquish it; and youwill come home crowned with glory and honour! And I shall be herewaiting for you; I shall watch and wait till you come. It iswritten in the book of fate that your name is to go down toposterity as the hero of Quebec. I am sure of it--oh, I am sure! Donot say anything to damp my hope, for I will not believe you!"

He looked into her face, and his own kindled strangely. "I will saynothing but that I love you--I love you--I love you! Today that isenough between us, Kate. Let the rest go--the honour and glory ofthe world, the commission, and all besides. Today we belong to eachother; tomorrow we sing of peace on earth, goodwill toward men. Letthat suffice us; let us forget the rest. We will be happy togetherin our love, and in love to all mankind. After that we must thinkagain of these things. Afterwards thoughts of war and strife musthave their place; but for once let love be lord of our lives. Afterthat storm and strife--and Quebec!"

Book 5: Within Quebec. 

Chapter 1: The Impregnable City. 

Within a lofty chamber, with narrow windows and walls of massivethickness, stood a young, bright-haired girl, looking with dreamyeyes across the wide waters of the great St. Lawrence, as it rolledits majestic course some hundreds of feet below. Although thatmighty waterway narrowed as it passed the rocky promontory uponwhich the city of Quebec was built, it was even there a wonderfulriver; and looking westward, as the girl was doing, it seemed tospread out before her eyes like a veritable sea. It was dotted withships of various dimensions bringing in supplies, or news of cominghelp or peril--news of that great armament from distant England, perhaps, whose approach was being awaited by all within the citywith a sense of intense expectancy, not entirely unmixed with fear. 

True, the soldiers laughed to scorn the idea of any attack uponQuebec. It stood upon its rocky tongue of land, frowning andunassailable, as it seemed to them. All along the north bank of thelower river the French were throwing up earthworks and intrenchingtheir army, to hinder any attempt at landing troops there; and theguns of the town batteries would soon sink and destroy any vesselrash enough to try to pass the town, and gain a footing upon theshores above. Indeed, so frowning and precipitous were these thatnature herself seemed to be sufficient guard. 

"Let the English come, and see what welcome we have got for them!"was a favourite exclamation from soldiers and townsfolk; yet allthe same there was anxiety in the faces of those who watched dailyfor the first approach of the English sails. Had not Louisbourgsaid the same, and yet had fallen before English hardihood andresolution? Those in the highest places in this Canadian capitalbest knew the rotten condition into which her affairs had fallen. The corruption amongst officials, the jealousy between Governor andGeneral, the crafty self seeking of the Intendant--these and ahundred other things were enough to cause much anxiety atheadquarters. The grand schemes of the French for acquiring a wholevast continent were fast dwindling down to the anxious hope ofbeing able to keep what they already possessed. 

The girl gazing forth from the narrow window was turning over inher mind the things that she had heard. Her fair face was grave, yet it was bright, too, and as she threw out her hand towards thevista of the great river rolling its mighty volume of water towardsthe sea, she suddenly exclaimed:

"And what if they do come? what if they do conquer? Have we notdeserved it? have we not brought ruin upon our own heads by thewickedness and cruelty we have made our allies? And if England'sflag should one day wave over the fortress of Quebec, as it nowdoes over that of Louisbourg, what is that to me? Have I notEnglish--or Scotch--blood in my veins? Am I not as much English asFrench? I sometimes think that, had I my choice, England would bethe country where I should best love to dwell. It is the land offreedom--all say that, even my good uncle, who knows so well. Ilove freedom; I love what is noble and great. Sometimes I feel inmy heart that England will be the greatest country of the world. "

Her eyes glowed; she stretched forth her hands in a speakinggesture. The waters of the great river seemed to flash back ananswer. Cooped up within frowning walls, amid the buildings of thefortress and upper town, Corinne felt sometimes like a bird in aprison cage; and yet the life fascinated her, with its constantexcitements, its military environment, its atmosphere of comingdanger. She did not want to leave Quebec till the struggle betweenthe nations had been fought out. And yet she scarcely knew whichside she wished to see win. French though her training had been oflate years, yet her childhood had been spent in the stormy north, amid an English-speaking people. She had seen much that disgustedand saddened her here amongst the French of Canada. She despisedthe aged libertine who still sat upon the French throne with allthe scorn and disgust of an ardent nature full of noble impulses. 

"I hate to call myself his subject!" she had been known to say. "Iwill be free to choose to which nation I will belong. I have theright to call myself English if I choose. "

Not that Corinne very often gave way to such open demonstrations ofher national independence, It was to her aunt, Madame Drucour, withwhom she was now making a home, that she indulged these littlerhapsodies, secure of a certain amount of indulgence and evensympathy from that lady, who had reason to think and speak well ofEnglish gallantry and chivalry. 

Madame Drucour occupied a small house wedged in amongst thenumerous strongly-built houses and ecclesiastical buildings of theupper town of Quebec. The house had been deserted by its originaloccupants upon the first news of the fall of Louisbourg. Many ofthe inhabitants of Quebec had taken fright at that, and had sailedfor France; and Madame Drucour had been placed here by her husband, who himself was wanted in other quarters to repel English advances. The lady had been glad to summon to her side her niece Corinne, who, since the state of the country had become so disturbed, hadbeen placed by her father and uncle in the Convent of theUrsulines, under the charge of the good nuns there. 

Corinne had been fond of the nuns; but the life of the cloister waslittle to her taste. She was glad enough to escape from itsmonotony, and to make her home with her father's sister. MadameDrucour could tell her the most thrilling and delightful stories ofthe siege of Louisbourg. Already she felt to know a great dealabout war in general and sieges in particular. She oftenexperienced a thrill of pride and delight in the thought that sheherself was about to be a witness of a siege of which all the worldwould be talking. 

As she stood at the window today, a footstep rang through the quiethouse below, and suddenly the door of the little chamber was flungwide open. 

"Corinne!" cried a ringing voice which she well knew. 

She turned round with a little cry of joy. 

"Colin!" she cried, and the next minute brother and sister werelocked in a fervent embrace. 

"O Colin, Colin, when did you come, and whence?"

"Just this last hour, and from Montreal, " he answered. "Oh, whatstrange adventures I have seen since last we met! Corinne, therehave been times when I thought never to see you again! I have somuch to say I know not where to begin. I have seen our triumphs, and I have seen our defeat. Corinne, it is as our uncle said. Thereis a great man now at the helm in England, and we are feeling hispower out here in the West. "

"Do you think the tide has turned against the French arms?" askedCorinne breathlessly. 

"What else can I think? Has not Fort Frontenac fallen? Has not FortDuquesne been abandoned before the advancing foe? Our realm in thewest is cut away from Canada in the north. If we cannot reunitethem, our power is gone. And they say that Ticonderoga and CrownPoint will be the next to fall. The English are massing upon LakeGeorge. They have commanders of a different calibre now. PoorTiconderoga! I grew to love it well. I spent many a happy monththere. But what can we do to save it, threatened as we are now bythe English fleet in the great St. Lawrence itself?"

"Are they not brave, these English?" cried Corinne, with anenthusiasm of admiration in her face and voice. "Colin, I am glad, oh very glad, that you and I are not all French. We can admire ourgallant foes without fear of disloyalty to our blood. We have causeto know how gallant and chivalrous they can be. "

Colin's eyes lighted with eager pleasure. 

"You remember that day in the forest, Corinne, and how we wereprotected by English Rangers from hurt?"

"Ah, do I not! And I have heard, too, from our Aunt Drucour, oftheir kindness and generosity to a conquered army--"

But she stopped, and waited for her brother to speak, as she sawthat he had more to say. 

"You remember the big, tall Ranger, whose name was Fritz?" he saideagerly. 

"Yes, I remember him well. "

"He is here--in Quebec--in this house at this very minute! He and Ihave travelled from Montreal with my uncle. "

Corinne's eyes were bright with eager interest. 

Ah, Colin! is that truly so? And how came that about? Youtravelling with an English Ranger!"

"Yes, truly, and we owe our lives to his valour and protection. Itis strange how Dame Fortune has thrown us across each other's pathtimes and again during these past few short years. First, he savedus from attack in the forest. You need not that I should tell youmore of that, Corinne. Afterwards, some few of us from Ticonderogasaved the lives of him and of a few other Rangers who had falleninto the hands of the Indians after that defeat at Fort WilliamHenry, which had scattered them far and wide. We felt such shame atthe way our Indian allies had behaved, and at the little protectiongiven to the prisoners of war by our Canadian troops, that we wereglad to show kindness and hospitality to the wanderers, Rangersthough they were; and when I recognized Fritz, I was the more glad. He was wounded and ill, and we nursed him to health ere we sent himaway. After that it was long before we met again, and then he cameto our succour when we were in the same peril from Indians as hehad been himself the year before. "

"From Indians? O brother!" and Corinne shuddered, for she had thathorror of the red-skinned race which comes to those who have seenand heard of their cruelties and treachery from those who havedwelt amongst them. 

"Yes, you must know, Corinne, that in the west, where our unclegoes with the word of life and truth, the Indians are alreadywavering, and are disposed to return to their past friendship withthe English. They are wonderfully cunning and far-seeing. They seemto have that same instinct as men say that rats possess, and areeager to leave the sinking ship, or to join themselves to thewinning side, whichever way you like to put it. Since we have seenmisfortune they have begun to change towards us. We cannot trustthem out in the west. They are becoming sullen, if not hostile. Avery little and they will turn upon us with savage fury--at leastif they are not withheld from it by the English themselves. "

Corinne's cheek flushed; she flung back her head with anindescribable gesture. 

"And I believe the English will withhold them. To our shame be itspoken, the French have made use of them. They have stooped to awarfare which makes civilized man shudder with horror. England willnot use such methods; I am sure of it, And she will prosper wherewe have failed; for God in the heavens rules the nations uponearth, and He will not suffer such wickedness to continue forever. If France in the west falls, she falls rather by her own act thanby that of her foes. "

"That is what my uncle says, " answered Colin earnestly; "it is whathe has striven all along to impress upon our leaders, but withoutavail. He has been seeking, too, to show to the Indians themselvesthe evil of their wicked practices. He has never been afraid ofthem; he has always been their friend. But the day came when theywould no longer listen to him; when they drove us forth with hatredand malice; when there came into their faces that which made memore afraid than anything I have ever faced in my life before, Corinne. We dared not stay. The chief dismissed us and bid us begone quickly, whilst he could still hold his people in check. Hedid not wish harm to come to us; but savage blood is hard to check. 

"We got away from the village, and hoped the danger was over. Wemade our way as well as we could towards Montreal. But our unclewas weak; he had had several attacks of fever. One day he could nottravel. That night we were set upon by a score of wanderingIndians. They would not listen to our words, We were white men, that was enough. All white men were their enemies, they said. Theywould roast us alive first and eat us afterwards, they declared, "

"O Colin!" cried Corinne, with widely-dilated eyes. 

"Yes; I can see their eyes now, rolling and gleaming. They begancollecting light brushwood around the upright stakes they droveinto the ground. They laughed and yelled, and sprang about withfrightful contortions. They were working themselves up as they dobefore they set to one of their frightful pieces of work. Our unclecalled me to him, and we prayed together. At least he prayed, and Itried to follow his words; but I could do nothing but watch thoseawful preparations. Then suddenly a shout arose from the foresthard by, and the Indians seized their weapons. We sent up a shout, caring little whether it was answered by English or French. We knewthat what we had heard was no Indian whoop; it came from thethroats of white men. 

"Next minute a body of Rangers had dashed amongst us. The Indiansfled, scattering right and left like chaff before the wind. Nextminute I distinguished the friendly face of Fritz. He was kneelingbeside our uncle, and asking him tenderly if he were hurt. "

"The same Fritz as saved us in the forest! Oh, I am glad it washe!"

"So was I; and doubly glad when I found that he knew more about thecure of these forest fevers than even our uncle himself. TheRangers made a hut for us, and for three days Fritz doctored ouruncle, till he was almost well again. But they would not leave usin the forest, with the bands of treacherous Indians prowlingaround. They escorted us to within a short distance of Montrealitself, and Fritz consented to come into the city as our guest; andsince he speaks French almost as well as English, he was a welcomeguest to all. He became so much attached to my uncle that heconsented to come with us to Quebec. For he is anxious to join theEnglish squadron when it reaches these waters, and my uncle gavehim his word of honour that no hindrance shall be placed in the wayof his doing so. Perhaps it may be even well for one who has seenthe extreme strength of the town, and the preparations made for itsdefence by land and sea, to go to warn the bold invaders that thetask they contemplate is one which is well nigh if not quiteimpossible. "

"O Colin, it is good indeed to have you again, out of the very jawsof death! Let me go myself and thank this noble Fritz for his goodoffices. Colin, I fear me I am half a traitor to the cause ofFrance already; for there is that in my heart which bids me regardthe English as friends rather than as foes. And when I hear menshake their heads and say that they may one day be the masters ofthese broad lands of the west, it raises within me no feeling ofanger or grief. I cannot be a true daughter of France to feel so!"

"And yet I share that feeling, Corinne. I often feel that I am lessthan half a Frenchman! My good uncle sometimes shakes his head overme; but then he smiles, and says that the mother's blood alwaysruns strong in the firstborn son; and methinks, had our motherlived, she would have been on the side of those who speak hertongue and hail from the grey lands of the north. "

"Ah, it is good that you feel the same, Colin! I had almost chidedmyself for being half a traitor. And now take me to our good friendFritz, that I may thank him myself and see him again with mine owneyes. "

Brother and sister descended the stone stairway which divided thevarious floors of that narrow house. As they reached the foot ofthe staircase, they heard the sound of voices from a half-opendoor, and Corinne said with a smile:

"It is our Aunt Drucour talking with the stranger. She is evereager for news of the war. A soldier is always a friend to her, soas he brings her tidings. "

The room into which Corinne and Colin stepped softly, so as not todisturb the conversation of their elders, was a long and narrowapartment, with the same small windows which characterized the restof the house. A table in the centre of the room took up the chiefof the space, and at this table sat a bronzed and stalwart man, whom Corinne instantly recognized as her protector in that forestadventure of long ago. He was seated with a trencher before him, and was doing an justice to the fare set out; but he was also inearnest conversation with Madame Drucour, who was seated opposite, her elbows lightly resting upon the table, and her chin upon herclasped hands. 

Upon a couch beneath the window lay the Abbe himself, with a cup ofwine beside him. He looked like a man who has been throughconsiderable fatigue and hardship, though his brow was serene andhis eyes were bright as he followed the rapid conversation whichpassed be tween the pair at the tables. 

As the boy and girl entered it was Fritz who was speaking, and hespoke eagerly. 

"You have seen Julian Dautray, my friend and comrade who sailedaway to England several years since on an embassy from the town ofPhiladelphia? Now this is news indeed. For I have heard no word ofhim from that day to this; yet once we were like brothers, and wemade that long, long journey together from the far south, till oursouls were knit together even as the souls of David and Jonathan. Tell me of him! Is he well? Is he still in this new world beyondthe dividing sea?"

"After the capture of Louisbourg, " answered Madame Drucour, withthe little touch of shrinking in her tone which such words alwaysoccasioned her, "he was to accompany the gallant Brigadier Wolfe(to whose untiring energy and zeal much of England's success wasdue) upon some mission of destruction on the coasts, little indeedto that soldier's liking. After that, I heard that they were tosail for England, since the brave officer's health stood in greatneed of recruiting. But it was known to all of us that MonsieurWolfe would never rest content till he had seen whether he mightnot repeat at Quebec what he had accomplished at Louisbourg. And ifnot actually known, it is more than conjectured that the fleet fromEngland which brings our foes into these waters will bring with itthat gallant soldier Wolfe; and if so, you may be sure that yourgood friend (and mine) Monsieur Julian Dautray will be with him. "

"That is good hearing, " cried Fritz, whose face was beaming withsatisfaction and pleasure; "it is like a feast to a hungry man tohear news of Julian again!"

And he listened with extreme interest whilst the lady told him allshe knew of his friend--his daring dash into the fortress disguisedas a French soldier, and his many acts of chivalrous generosity atthe close of the siege. 

"We have reason to be grateful to you English, " said MadameDrucour, with a gracious smile. "It is a happiness, when we have tofight, to find such generous and noble foes. It is hard to believethat this strong city of Quebec will ever open its gates even to sobrave a commander as the gallant Wolfe; and yet, if such a thingwere again to be here as was at Louisbourg, I, for one, shall beable to welcome the victor with a smile as well as a sigh; for Ihave seen how generous he is to sick and wounded, and how gentlychivalrous to women and children. "

"Yet those were stern terms demanded from capitulating Louisbourg, "spoke the Abbe thoughtfully. 

"They were, " said the lady, with a sigh; "and yet can we wonder sogreatly? England has suffered much from the methods we of France havepursued in our warfare. But let us not think of that tonight; let usremember only that English and French may be friends--individually--eventhough our nations are at war. Let us entertain Monsieur with the bestat our command, and bid him Godspeed when he shall choose to leave us. 

"Ah! and there I see my nephew Colin. 

"Welcome, dear child; thou art child no longer. 

"What a fine youth he has grown with the flight of years! I shouldscarce have known him!"

Whilst aunt and nephew were exchanging amenities in one part of theroom, Corinne approached Fritz, who had risen to his feet at sightof her, and putting out a hand said with a shy smile:

"I am glad to welcome you again, Monsieur. "

"And I to see you once again, Mademoiselle, " he replied. "I haveoften wondered whether I should ever have that pleasure. The chanceof war has brought me and your brother face to face three timesalready. But I scarce thought I should see you again. I thoughtthese troubled days would have sent you back to France. These arestrange places for tender maidens to abide in--these walled cities, with guns without and within!"

"Ah, but I have no home in France, " answered the girl, "and I wouldnot be sent away. I have grown to love this strange Western landand the struggle and stress of the life here. I would fain see theend of this mighty struggle. To which scale will victory incline, think you, Monsieur? Will the flag of England displace that ofFrance over the town and fortress of this city of Quebec?"

"Time alone can show that, " answered Fritz gravely; "and we mustnot boast of coming victory after all the ignominious defeats thatwe have suffered. But this I know--the spirit of England is yetunbroken. She has set herself to a task, and will not readily turnback from it. If the spirit of her sons is the same now as it wasin the days of which our fathers have told us, I think that shewill not quietly accept repulse. "

Corinne's eyes flashed; she seemed to take a strange sort of pridein anticipations such as these. 

"I like that spirit, " she cried; "it has not been the spirit ofFrance. She has boasted, boasted, boasted of all the wonders shewas to perform, and yet she has never made good her hold in thesouth. Now the tide seems to have turned here in the north; andthough men speak brave words of defiance, their hearts are failingthem for fear. And have they not reason to fear--they who have doneso ignobly?"

"Do you remember what you told us when we met in the forest longago?" asked Fritz. "Do you remember the name you spoke--the name ofPitt--and told us that when that man's hand was on the helm ofEngland's statecraft the turn of the tide would come? And so wewaited for news from home, and at last we heard the name of Pitt. And, behold, since then the tide has turned indeed. Those words ofyours have upheld our hopes in many a dark hour. And now that thefulfilment seems so near, shall we not feel grateful to those whoheld out the torch of hope when all was darkness?"

Corinne smiled brightly, and held out her little hand again. 

"We will be friends, come what will, " she said; "for I love theEnglish as well as the French, and I have cause to know whatgenerous foes they can make!"

So Fritz became the guest of Madame Drucour in the narrow littlestone house; the Abbe likewise remained as an inmate whilst herecruited the health that had been so sorely tried and shattered oflate. Fritz was in no haste to depart, if his hosts desired hispresence there. He would join the English fleet when it appeared;but it mattered little to him how he passed the intervening time. He could pass as well for a Frenchman as an Englishman, and did sofor the time he remained in the city; but he kept his eyes open, and took careful note of what he saw, and, in truth, it seemed tohim that the English fleet had little or no chance of effecting anylanding in or near Quebec. 

The fortifications of the town were immensely strong; so was itsposition--so commandingly situated upon the little tongue of land. There was a small camp upon the opposite point of land, which mightperhaps be strengthened with advantage; but the whole of the northbank of the river was being fortified and intrenched, and wasmanned by regulars and Canadian troops, all well armed andmunitioned. It was impossible to see how any attacking force couldobtain a foothold upon that strand; and if Fritz's hosts took careto let him see all this, it seemed to him a proof that they wellunderstood the impregnable character of their position. 

But it was no part of Fritz's plan to linger over long in Quebec, although he was wishful to see the city for himself, and to judgeof the strength of its position. He knew that the fleet fromLouisbourg would be hanging about nearer the mouth of the greatestuary, and to a traveller of his experience the journey either byland or water was a mere trifle. 

Any day the sails of the English vessels might be expected toappear. The seething excitement in the city, and the eager andlaborious preparations upon land, showed how public feeling wasbeing aroused. It might not be well for Fritz to linger muchlonger. If his real connection with the English were discovered, hemight find himself in difficulties. 

"I have arranged with a boatman to take you down the river tonight, Monsieur, " said Madame Drucour to him; when he had expressed adetermination to leave. "He is scouting for information as to theEnglish fleet, and we have heard that vessels have been seen in theregion of the Isle-aux-Coudres. He will land you there, and youwill then have no difficulty in rejoining your countrymen. IfMonsieur Wolfe has arrived, pray give him my best compliments, andtell him that I hope his health is improved, and that if we shouldmeet once again it will be as friends. "

"I will not forget to do so, Madame, " answered Fritz. "I myselflook forward with pleasure to making the acquaintance of that greatsoldier. I should not have dared to think that I might approach himmyself; but since Julian is his friend, I shall not be denied hispresence. "

Corinne was listening to the talk with eager interest; now shebroke in with a smile:

"And tell Monsieur Julian that if he should repeat his strategy ofLouisbourg here at Quebec, and steal into the city in disguise, Ihope he will come to see us here. We are very well disposed towardsthe English, my aunt and I. We should have a welcome for him, andwould see that he came to no harm. "

Madame Drucour laughed, and patted the cheek of her niece. 

"Make no rash promises, little one. The game of war is a fiercerand more deadly and dangerous one than thou canst realize as yet. It may be our privilege to shelter and succour a hunted foe; buttempt not any man to what might be certain destruction. Spies meetwith scant mercy; and there are Indians in this city who know notthe meaning of mercy, and have eyes and ears quicker and keenerthan our own. Monsieur and his friends had better now remainwithout the city walls, unless the day should come when they canenter them as conquerors and masters of all. "

She drew herself together and gave a little, quick, shudderingsigh, as though realizing as those never could do who had not seenwar what must inevitably be ere such an end could be accomplished. 

Fritz took her hand and carried it to his lips. 

"If such a day as that come, Madame, " he said, "be very sure thatmy first duty and privilege will be to protect you and yours fromharm. Adieu; and if I can ever repay your kindness to me, be surethe opportunity shall not be neglected. "

Chapter 2: The Defences Of Quebec. 

Excitement reigned in the city. There had been a cry of fearearlier in the day. Men had rushed through the streets, cryingaloud in every tone of consternation:

"The English fleet! the English fleet!"

But this had proved a false alarm. The sails seen advancing up thegreat waterway were those of friendly vessels, laden withprovisions for the city, and great rejoicings were held as thesupplies were carried into the storehouses by the eager citizensand soldiers. Colin, running hither and thither picking up news, came running back at short intervals with tidings for his sisterand aunt. 

"They all say the English fleet has sailed from England, and may behere any day; but at least we shall not starve yet. We have a fineconsignment of provisions brought in today. "

Next time he came he had another item of information to give. 

"Our General, Monsieur de Montcalm, met me in the street just now, and bid me say that he purposed to take his supper with us thisevening, as there are certain matters he would discuss with myuncle, and with you, dear aunt, who have seen so much of warfare. He asked me if it would be convenient for you to receive him, and Isaid I was sure that it would. "

"Quite right, my child, " answered Madame Drucour; "I shall deem itan honour to entertain the brave Marquis. I have a great respectfor him, both as a man and a soldier. "

"Yes: they all speak well of him, and they say that the Governor, Vaudreuil, treats him shamefully, or at least traduces himshamefully behind his back to the Government in France. He isjealous because Monsieur de Montcalm is so much better a soldierthan he. His jealousy is mean and pitiful. I hear things that makemy blood boil!"

"Yes: Monsieur de Montcalm has had to exercise great patience andself restraint. We all honour him for it, " said the Abbe, lookingup from his breviary. "His has been a difficult post from first tolast, and he has filled it with marked ability. The Governor seeksto take to himself all the credit of success throughout the colonyand the war, and to heap upon Montcalm all the blame wherever therehas been discomfiture and defeat; but from what I can learn, theMinister of France is not deceived. The powers of the campaign arevested mainly in the hands of the General of the forces, let theGovernor rage as he will. "

Colin and Corinne stood at the window watching the hubbub down inthe lower town and along the quays. They could obtain a fair viewfrom the upper window, where the girl spent so much of her time;and whilst the Abbe and Madame Drucour talked of public matters andthe political outlook, Colin poured broadsides of information intothe ears of his sister. 

"They say that the English ships can never navigate the waters ofthis great river!" he cried. "I was talking with the sailors on thevessels which have come in. They dare not bring their own ships upwithout a pilot on board. If the English try to sail their greatbattleships up through the shoals and other perils, they willassuredly, say the men, run them upon the jagged edges of thesunken reefs and wreck them hopelessly. I was telling them that theEnglish are better sailors than ever the French will be; but theyonly laughed grimly, and bid them come and see what their sailorcraft could do without pilots in the mouth of the St. Lawrence. Ishould grieve if the noble vessels were wrecked and stranded in theTraverse, which they say is the most dangerous part of all. But thesailors are very confident that that is what will happen. "

"I don't believe it!" cried Corinne, with flashing eyes. "TheEnglish have always been masters of the sea; have they not wonthemselves the name of 'sea dogs' and 'sea rovers' even from theirenemies? The walls and guns of Quebec may prove too much for them, but not the navigation of the St. Lawrence. "

"So I think, " answered Colin eagerly; "but that is what the mensay. 

"The French are always something overconfident and boastful, Ithink, " said Corinne gravely. "They like to win their battlesbefore they fight them, and beat back the foe before he appears. But we shall see--we shall see. "

Colin and Corinne were both much interested in the General of theforces, Monsieur the Marquis of Montcalm. In addition to being avery excellent soldier--brave, capable, merciful, and modest--hewas a very delightful and charming companion in any socialgathering; and towards Corinne he showed himself especially tender, telling her, with the tears standing in his eyes, how much shereminded him of the little daughter he had left at home, Mirete;whom he feared he should never see again. 

"For my aide-de-camp, M. De Bougainville, lately returned fromFrance, has brought me sad news. One of my daughters has died--hecould not ascertain which; but I feel sure it is my little Mirete, who was always delicate and fragile. I loved her very much; she wassuch a clinging little thing, and had soft brown eyes like yours, my dear. I did not think, when I left my wife and children in ourhappy home at Candiac, that I should be detained here so long, orthat death would have visited my house ere I returned. We were sohappy in that far away home in France; my thoughts are ever turningback thither. Pray Heaven I may soon bring this war to a successfultermination, and may then return to end my days in peace in thatfair spot, surrounded by those I love so well!"

This little speech touched Corinne's heart, and she lifted her faceand gave the bereaved father a kiss of sympathy, the tears hangingupon her own long lashes. He squeezed her hand and returned thesalute with warmth. Yet the next minute he was the soldier and thegeneral all over, as he seated himself at table and proceeded todiscuss the situation of affairs with the Abbe and his hostess. 

"My policy, " he explained to them, "will be one of defence, not ofattack. What we must set ourselves to do is to prevent any landingof English troops upon the north bank of this river anywhere nearthe city. I had thought at first of making the Plains of Abraham, behind the city, the basis of my encampment. But this, as you know, has been given up, and the north bank of the river, throughBeauport and right away to the river and falls of the Montmorency, has been selected. 

"When you are sufficiently recovered, my friend, I should like totake you to see our position. Our right rests upon the St. Charles, our left upon the Montmorency. Quebec is thus secured from anyadvance by land. Her own guns must protect her from any attempt bysea. No vessel should or ought to pass the rock without beinginstantly disabled, if not sunk. By disposing our forces in thisway, and remaining upon the defensive, we shall have our foes in avice, so to speak. The risk of disembarking and trying to fight uswill be immense. They will lose ten men to our one in everyencounter. And if we can play this waiting game long enough, thestorms of winter will come down upon us, and the Admirals will haveto withdraw their fleet to some safe harbourage, and we shall havesaved Quebec!"

"Yes, " said the Abbe--"that sounds a wise and wary policy; but willthe Canadian militia be patient and obedient during the long periodof inaction? They are accustomed to a sort of fierce, short forestwarfare, quick marches, hand-to-hand fights, and the freedom toreturn to their homes. How will they like the long imprisonment inthe camp, without being brought face to face with the foe? TheCanadian soldiers have always given trouble; I fear they will do soagain. "

"If they become troublesome, " said Montcalm, with a tightening ofthe lips, "they will be told that the Indians shall be loosed upontheir lands and farms to harry and destroy! Mutineers are accordedscant mercy. Monsieur de Vaudreuil has made up his mind how to dealwith them in such case. "

The Abbe stroked his chin thoughtfully. 

"If we alienate the Canadians, and have only the regulars to fallback upon, we shall be very short handed. "

"True; but I do not anticipate such a contingency. The Canadiansare no more desirous of seeing England's flag waving over theirlands than we are ourselves. They may be rebellious anddiscontented, but they will hardly go further than that. "

"It is ill work fighting with discontented soldiers, " said MadameDrucour thoughtfully. 

"Very true, Madame. I often wish we had better material for ourarmy. I abhor the Indians, and distrust the Canadians. But what canwe do? France has sore need of all her soldiers for her Europeanwars. What can she do for us here out in the western wilds? She hasher hands full at home. "

"And yet, " said the Abbe, "if she loses her hold upon these samewestern wilds, she will lose that new kingdom upon which her eyeshave been greedily fastened for two centuries or more. She hasclaimed half the world as her own; will she lose all for the sakeof some petty quarrel with her neighbours?"

Montcalm smiled and slowly shook his head. 

"Our royal master has his hands something too full at times, " hesaid; "yet we will do our best for him out here. "

"And if General Amherst with his great army should succeed incapturing Ticonderoga and Crown Point, and should advance upon usby the interior, and steal upon us from behind, what then?" askedthe Abbe, who, having come from that part of the world, and knowingthe apprehensions of the French along the western border, was notunmindful of this possible danger. 

Montcalm's face was grave. 

"That will be our greatest danger, " he said. "If that should takeplace, we shall have to weaken our camp along the river and sendreinforcements to the small detachments now placed along the upperriver. But the English were routed at Ticonderoga once; let us hopeit will happen so a second time. "

"General Amherst is a very different commander from GeneralAbercromby, " said the Abbe gravely; and Madame Drucour added hertestimony to the abilities of the General who had commanded at thesiege of Louisbourg, although the dash and energy of Wolfe had beenone of the main elements of strength to the besiegers. 

"Yet I have confidence in our good Boulamaque, " answered Montcalm. "He will do all that can he done to check the advance of theinvaders and hold out fortresses against them. We have had ourdisasters--far be it from me to deny it--but Ticonderoga is strong, and has long held her own; I think she will do so once again. "

"And will you remain within the walls of Quebec yourself, my dearMarquis? or is it true what I hear--that your headquarters will bewith the camp at Beauport?"

"My place is here--there--everywhere!" answered Montcalm, with asmile and a meaning gesture. "Within the city the Chevalier deRamesay will hold command with sixteen thousand men. For my part, Ishall occupy myself chiefly with the army along the river banks. The first peril will certainly lie there. The town is unassailable, but a landing will probably be attempted somewhere along there. Theenemy must be driven back with loss and confusion each time such anattempt is made. That will discourage them, and inspire our menwith hope and courage. We have also prepared fire ships at no smallcost, to be launched and fired at convenient seasons, and sentadrift amongst the enemy's ships. The sight of their burningvessels will do something to discourage the English. They put theirtrust in their ships. We will show them what a warm welcome we havewaiting for them here!"

"And our own vessels, " asked the Abbe--"what of them? Will anynaval battle he attempted?"

"No. The Governor has given orders that they shall disembark theirmen for the defence of the town, and the ships themselves will besent some distance up the river out of harm's way. We have keptsome of the best for fire ships; the rest will remain at adistance, beyond the river Richelieu. "

"You think, then, that no British ship can pass the guns of thetown?"

Montcalm's face was a study of calm confidence. 

"I only wish they might attempt it, " he said. "We would sink themone by one, as a child's boats could be sunk by throwing stonesupon them. The English have a task before them the magnitude ofwhich they have little idea of. First they have the river itself tonavigate; then they have the guns of Quebec to settle with. Letthem take their choice between Scylla and Charybdis; for of acertainty they lie betwixt the two. "

Indeed the guns of Quebec were formidable enough. Next day Montcalmtook Madame Drucour and her niece and nephew a tour of inspectionabout the town, and up to one of the heights which gave them apanoramic view of the city and its defences, both within andwithout. The batteries of the town bristled with formidable guns;the town itself swarmed with soldiers--regulars, militia, Indians. From the adjacent country men of all ages had come flocking in, eager to bear arms against the foe. The Bishop had issued a mandateto his flock, urging them to rally round their leaders, and neversurrender the fair domain of Canada to the heretic usurper. 

There was plenty of enthusiasm now amongst the Canadians they cameflocking into the camp in great numbers. All were hardy fellows, trained to a certain sort of rough fighting from their verychildhood. They were invaluable in forest warfare, as had beenproved again and again. But they lacked the stamina of the regularsoldier. They were invariably unsteady when exposed to fire in theopen, and they were impatient of discipline and control. Vaudreuilwas always loud in their praise, trying to give them the credit ofevery successful engagement. But Montcalm reposed much moreconfidence in his regular soldiers; although he gave these otherstheir due when they had proved of service to him. 

It was a wonderful sight to see the lines of defence stretchingright away from the river St. Charles, close to the promontory onwhich Quebec was built, to that other invisible gorge where thewonderful cataract of the Montmorency flung its waters into thegreater St. Lawrence below. Opposite was the height of Point Levi, with its smaller batteries; and away on the left, in the middle ofthe vast, sea-like river, could be distinguished the western end ofthe Isle of Orleans. 

Earthworks, batteries, redoubts seemed to bristle every where. Squadrons of men, like brilliant-hued ants, moved to and fro uponthe plains below. The tents of the camp stretched out in endlesswhite spots; and the river was dotted with small craft of all sortsconveying provisions to the camp, and doing transport duty of allkinds. 

"He will be a bold man who faces the fire from our batteries, Ithink, " said Montcalm, looking with a calm complacency upon theanimated scene; and then he turned and pointed backwards behind himto Cape Diamond, fringed with its palisades and capped by parapetand redoubt. 

A bold foe indeed to face the perils frowning from every heightupon which the eye could rest. Madame Drucour's face slowlybrightened as she took in, with eyes that were experienced in suchmatters, the full strength of the position occupied by the city ofQuebec. 

"In truth, I scarce see how the enemy could effect a landinganywhere--could even attempt it, " she said. "And yet we said thesame at Louisbourg--till they landed where none of us thought theycould do, and took us in the rear!"

And her eyes sought the steep, precipitous banks of the river afterthe town had been passed, as though asking whether any landingcould be effected there, if some ships should succeed in the daringattempt to pass the guns of the town, and find anchorage in theupper river. 

Montcalm followed her glance with his, and seemed to read thethought in her heart. 

"All these heights will be watched, " he said. "Although I have nofear of any vessel being foolhardy enough to attempt the passage, orclever enough to succeed in passing the guns of the fortifications, I shall leave no point unwatched or unguarded. Quebec shall notfall whilst I have life and breath! If the victor marches into thecity, it will be across my dead body!"

Later upon that very day a fresh excitement occurred. MadameDrucour and her niece and nephew were in the pleasant upper room oftheir house, talking over the things they had seen and heard thatday, when the clamour in the street below roused them to theconsciousness that something unwonted was afoot; and Colin ranbelow, eager to know what the matter could be. In a few minutes hereturned, his face full of animation and eager interest. 

"They have taken three prisoners!" he exclaimed--"Englishmidshipmen all of them. You know our boats are scouting all roundthe Isle-aux-Coudres, where Durell and his contingent of ships fromLouisbourg are lying waiting for the English fleet. "

"Yes, yes, " cried Corinne eagerly; "we know that! But where are theprisoners?"

"They are below, in the house. They brought them to the Abbe, ouruncle. They profess not to speak French, these lads, but I thinkthey understand it fast enough. 

"Come down and hear their story, my aunt; and you also, Corinne. They have been left in our care by the order of Monsieur deMontcalm, that we may win from them all that they know, respectingthe strength of the English fleet. Let us go and hear what theysay. "

"How came they to be taken?" asked Madame Drucour, as she rose toaccompany Colin. 

"They were taken on shore. They had left their ship, perhapswithout leave, and were amusing themselves upon the island. The menin our boat watched them, and presently landed cautiously andsurrounded them. They made a gallant struggle, but were captured atlength. And now they have been brought to us that we may get fromthem all the information we can. Our uncle is talking to them evennow. I want to hear, and I want Corinne also to hear what theysay. "

"And the poor lads will doubtless be hungry, " said Madame Drucour, always thoughtful for the comfort of others; "we will set foodbefore them as they talk. They shall see that we are not harshcaptors. "

It was three bright-faced, bronzed English lads that they found inthe lower room with the good Abbe. He had induced the rest of thepeople to disperse, and was now alone with the captives. The ladsseemed quite disposed to be talkative, and when the lady enteredbearing food, their eyes brightened; they stood up and made theirbows to all, and fell upon the victuals with a hearty goodwill. 

"Strong! I should think it was strong, " cried the eldest of thethree, in response to a question from the Abbe respecting theEnglish squadron on the way: "why, there are more than thirty shipsof the line, and with frigates, sloops-of-war, and transports theymust number over fifty. Then we have ten fine ships under AdmiralDurell, waiting to join the main fleet when it comes; and there isanother squadron under Admiral Holmes, which has gone to New Yorkto take up the troops mustered in New England for the reduction ofQuebec. Oh, it will be a grand sight, a grand sight, when it comessailing up the waters of the St. Lawrence! Quebec, I dare wager, has never seen such a sight before!"

The faces of all the lads were full of animation and pride. Theyappeared to have no fears for their personal safety. They wereenthusiastic in their descriptions of the wonderful feats which theworld would soon see, and when once started on the subject wereready to talk on and on. 

"They have fifteen or sixteen thousand men--picked troops--with thegallant Wolfe in command, " cried another. "You have seen somethingalready of what Wolfe can do when he is set upon a task!"

Madame Drucour made a little sign of assent; she had learned thatlesson herself very fully. The lad made her a courtly bow, for heknew her well, having been at the siege of Louisbourg, and havingseen her when he had entered the fortress to view it after thesurrender. 

"Madame Drucour is herself a soldier; she can appreciate thetalents of the soldiers, " he said. "Well, we have Wolfe coming, andwith him three gallant Brigadiers--Moncton and Townshend andMurray. They all say that each one of these is as valiant as thegreat Wolfe himself, and as full of ardour. "

"And then our guns!" chimed in the third. "Why, we have guns enoughto batter down these old walls as children batter down their cardhouses! You know what English guns did at Louisbourg, Madame! Well, we have bigger and heavier ones coming from England--such guns ashave never been seen in this country before; and such shells--why, you can hear the scream of them for miles. You will hear them soonsinging and screaming over Quebec if you try to hold it againstWolfe!"

Corinne and Colin exchanged glances. It seemed indeed to bring thethought of war very near when this sort of talk went on. The Abbewas thoughtfully stroking his chin, debating within himself whetherall this was a bit of gasconade on the part of these middies, orwhether it represented the actual facts of the case. Madame Drucourmade quiet answer, saying:

"But Quebec has also its guns, my young friends; Quebec can makefitting reply to English guns. And ships are more vulnerable thanour thick walls. The game of war is one that both nations can playwith skill and success. If you have a Wolfe on your side, we have aMontcalm on ours!"

"Oh yes; we have heard of the Marquis of Montcalm. He is a fine oldfellow; I wish we could see him. "

"You have your wish, gentlemen!" spoke a new voice from the shadowycorner by the door, where the twilight was gathering. 

The company started to their feet and saluted the great man, whoadvanced smiling, motioning them to be seated. Corinne kindled thelamp, and the General looked about him and sat down at the tableopposite to the three youths. 

"I hear you are from the English squadron, " he said; "I have cometo ask you as to its strength. Tell me frankly and candidly whatyou know, and I will undertake that your captivity shall not be arigorous one. "

He spoke in French, and the Abbe interpreted, although he suspectedthat the lads understood a good deal more of that language thanthey professed to do. They were willing enough to repeat what theyhad said before as to the overwhelming size and equipment of thefleet on its way from England--of the valour of men and officers, of Wolfe's known intrepidity and military genius, and of theexcellent, far-carrying guns and their equally excellent gunners. 

Montcalm listened with bent brow and thoughtful mien. The ladsappeared to speak with confidence and sincerity. They evidentlybelieved that the fall of Quebec was foreordained of Heaven; but itwas possible they might be misinformed as to the true strength ofthe fleet, and had perhaps, consciously or unconsciously, exaggerated that. 

At any rate they were not reticent: they told everything they knewand perhaps more. They gloried in the thought of the fighting tocome, and seemed to take their own captivity very lightly, evidently thinking it only a matter of a few weeks before theycould be exchanged or released--before their countrymen would bemarching into Quebec. 

"And as soon as General Amherst has got Ticonderoga, he will marchhere to help us, if we are not masters here first!" was the finalshot of the senior midshipman. "Not that Wolfe will need his helpin the taking of Quebec, but he will want a share in the glory ofit. And all New England, and all those provinces which have beenasleep so long, are waking up, eager to take their share now thatthe moment of final triumph is near. There are so many fine troopswaiting to embark that Admiral Holmes will probably have to leavethe half behind. But they will follow somehow, you will see. Theyare thirsting to avenge themselves upon the Indians, and upon thosewho set the Indians on to harry and destroy their brothers alongthe borders!"

The Abbe translated this also into French, making a little gesturewith his hand the while. 

"I knew that retribution must sooner or later follow upon thatgreat sin, " he said. "Were it not for my feeling on that score, Ishould have firmer hopes for Quebec. But God will not sufferiniquity to go long unpunished. We have drawn down retribution uponour own heads!"

Montcalm made a gesture similar to that of the Abbe. 

"I have said so myself many a time, " he replied. "I hated andabhorred the means we have too often used. It may be that what yousay is right and just. And yet I know that I shall not live to seeQuebec in the hands of the English. I can die for my country, and Iam willing to do so; but I cannot and I will not surrender!"

"So they said at Louisbourg, " muttered one of the midshipmen toColin, showing how easily he understood what was passing; "but theysang to a different tune when they had heard the music of our gunslong enough!"

The Marquis was talking aside with the Abbe and Madame Drucour. When the colloquy was over, the Abbe addressed the midshipmen. 

"Monsieur de Montcalm is willing to release you on parole, and mysister, Madame Drucour, will permit you to remain in this houseduring your stay in the city. You must give up your dirks, and passyour word not to try to escape; but after having done this, youwill be free to come and go as you will. And if the English shouldtake prisoners of our French subjects, you shall be exchanged uponthe first opportunity. These are the terms offered you by Monsieurde Montcalm as the alternative to an imprisonment which would besorely irksome to youths such as you. "

The lads looked at one another. It was a promise rather hard togive, since there would be so many excellent opportunities forescape; but the thought of imprisonment in some gloomy subterraneanportion of the fortress, even with the faint chance of effecting anescape from thence, was too sombre and repelling. They accepted thelenient terms offered, passed their word with frank sincerity, andhanded over their weapons with a stifled sigh. 

"We will show you the city tomorrow, " said Colin, when he tooktheir guests up to the lofty where they were to sleep in company. "My sister and I are half English ourselves. I sometimes think thatin her heart of hearts Corinne would like to see the English flagfloating over the towers of Quebec. "

"Hurrah for Mademoiselle Corinne!" cried the lad Peter, throwinghis cap into the air. "I thought you two looked little like thedark-skinned Frenchies! We shall be friends then, and when the townfalls we will take care that no harm comes to you. But we mean tohave Quebec; so you may make up your mind to that!"

Chapter 3: Mariners Of The Deep. 

"I must go! I must go!" shouted Colin, bursting into the house, madwith excitement and impetuosity. 

"My uncle, you will let me go! I must see this great and mightyfleet for myself. They say it is coming up the mighty river'smouth. Some say it will be wrecked ere it reach the Isle ofOrleans! Let me go and see it, I pray, and I will return and tellyou all. "

The whole city was in a ferment. For long weeks had the Englishfleet been watched and waited for--for so long, indeed, thatprovisions were already becoming a little scarce within the town, in spite of the convoy which had arrived earlier in the year. Somany mouths were there to feed that the question of supply wascausing anxiety already. Still with care there was enough to lastfor a considerable time. Only the delay of the English vessels hadupset the calculations of the men in charge of the commissariatdepartment, and the people had to be put upon rations, lest thereshould be a too quick consumption of the stores. 

This had caused a little murmuring and discontent, and the longwaiting had tried the citizens more than active work would havedone. It had given Montcalm time to fortify his camp very strongly, and make his position all that he desired; but it had been awearisome time to many, and the Canadian troops were alreadydiscontented, and wearying to get away from the life of the camp, back to their own homes and fields and farms. 

But now hot midsummer had come, and with it the. English foe. Afast-sailing sloop had brought word that the junction of thesquadrons was taking place just off Cape Tourmente, and Colin waswild to take boat and go to see the great ships. 

"They are saying that they must all be wrecked in trying tonavigate the Traverse, " cried the boy; "but Peter and Paul andArthur laugh to scorn the notion, and say that we do not know whatsort of men the English mariners are. Some say that Admiral Durellhas already captured the pilots who live there, ready to take theFrench ships up and down. Let me go and learn what is happening. Let me take a boat, and take Peter and Paul and Arthur with me. They know how to manage one as well as any sailor in the town. Letus go, my uncle, and bring you word again. "

The boy was set on it; he could not be withheld. Moreover, the Abbeand Madame Drucour were keenly anxious for news. 

"Be careful, my boy, be cautious, " he said; "run not into danger. But I think thou art safe upon the river with those lads. You willtake care of one another, and bring us word again what ishappening. "

"Oh, I will come back safe and sound, never fear for me!" answeredthe boy, in great delight. "We will bring you news, never fear! Wewill see all that is to be seen. Oh, I am glad the day of waitingis over, and that the day for fighting has come!"

"Would that I were a boy like you, Colin!" cried Corinne, withsparkling eyes. "It is hard to be cooped up in the city when thereare such stirring things going on outside. But I will up to theheights and watch for the sight of sails; and you will come backsoon, Colin, and tell us all the news. "

Nevertheless it was a hard task for the eager girl to remain behindwhen her brother and their three merry friends went forth in searchof news. 

By this time the English midshipmen were quite at home in their newhome, and the blithest of companions for the brother and sisterthere. They did much to foster the sympathies of Colin and Corinnefor the English cause. The boys told of England and the life there, and were so full of enthusiasm for their country that it was almostimpossible not to catch something of the contagion of their mood. Both Colin and his sister had seen much to disgust and displeasethem amongst the French; whilst round their foes there seemed to bea sort of halo of romance and chivalry which appealed to theimaginative strain in both brother and sister. 

Their British blood could not fail to be stirred within them. Theysaw and heard of corruption, chicanery, and petty jealousy allround them here. It was hardly to be wondered at that they inclinedto the other side. England and Scotland were uniting together forthe conquest of this Western world. Their mother's countrymen werefighting the battle. They had the right to wish them success. 

Corinne rehearsed all this to herself as she stood upon the loftyheights behind the town that afternoon with her uncle and aunt. They were looking with anxiety and grave misgivings at theclustering sails dimly seen in the distance upon the shining waterof that vast estuary. Montcalm himself had come up to see, andstood with his telescope at his eye, watchful and grave. 

"We have made a mistake, " he said to the Abbe in a low voice. "Idid speak to the Governor once; but he was against the measure, andwe permitted it to drop. But I can see now it was a mistake. Weshould have planted a battery--a strong one--upon Cape Tourmente, and bombarded the ships as they passed by. We trusted to thedangerous navigation of the Traverse, but we made a mistake:English sailors can go anywhere!"

The Abbe made a sign of assent. He remembered now how the Generalhad made this suggestion to the Governor, and pressed it with someardour, but had been met with opposition at every point. Vaudreuilhad declared that it would weaken the town to bring out such aforce to a distant point; that they must concentrate all theirstrength around the city; that they would give the enemy the chanceof cutting their army in two. Montcalm had yielded the point. Therewas so much friction between him and the Governor that he had togive way where he could. Vaudreuil was always full of grand, swelling words, and boasts of his great deeds and devotion; but menwere beginning to note that when face to face with real peril helost his nerve and self confidence, and had to depend upon others. It was thus that he opposed Montcalm (of whose superior genius andpopularity he was bitterly jealous) at every turn when danger wasstill distant, but turned to him in a fluster of dismay when thehour of immediate peril had come, and had been made more perilousby his own lack of perception and forethought whilst things wereless imminent. 

"Yet look at our lines of defence!" he exclaimed, after he hadfinished all the survey he could make of the distant sails crowdedabout the Isle of Orleans. "Where could any army hope to land alongthis northern shore? Let them fire as they like from their ships;that will not hurt us. And we can answer back in a fashion thatmust soon silence them. The heights are ours; the town is safelyguarded. The summer is half spent already. Let us but keep them atbay for two months, and the storms of the equinox will do the rest. When September comes, then come the gales--and indeed they may helpus at any time in these treacherous waters. You mariners ofEngland, you are full of confidence and skill--I am the last todeny it--but the elements have proved stronger than you beforethis, and may do so again. "

Corinne listened to all this with a beating heart, and asked of heraunt:

"What think you that they will first do--the English, I mean?"

"Probably land and make a camp upon the Isle of Orleans, which hasbeen evacuated. A camp of some sort they must have, and can make itthere without damage to us. It will make a sort of basis ofoperations for them; but I think they will be sorely puzzled whatto do next. They cannot get near the city without exposingthemselves to a deadly fire which they cannot return--for gunsfired low from ships will not even touch our walls or ramparts--andany attempt along the shore by Beauport will be repulsed with heavyloss. "

"Yet they will do something, I am sure, " spoke the girl, beneathher breath; and she was more sure still of this when upon themorrow Colin returned, all aglow with excitement and admiration, whilst the three midshipmen had much ado to restrain their whoopsof joy and triumph. 

"I never saw such a thing!" cried Colin, his face full of delightand enthusiasm, as he and the midshipmen got Corinne to themselves, and could talk unrestrainedly together; "I feel as though I couldnever take sides against the English again! If they are all suchmen as that old sailing master Killick, methinks the French havelittle chance against them. "

"Hurrah for old Killick! hurrah for England's sailors!" cried themidshipmen, as wildly excited as Colin himself; and Corinne pressedher hands together, and looked from one to the other, crying:

"Oh tell me! what did he do?"

"I'll tell you!" cried Colin. "You have heard them speak of theTraverse, and what a difficult place it is to navigate?"

"Yes: Monsieur de Montcalm was saying that no vessel ever venturedup or down without a pilot; but he said that a rumour had reachedhim that some pilots had been taken prisoners, and that the Englishships would get up with their help. "

"With or without!" cried Peter, tossing his cap into the air. "Asthough English sailors could not move without Frenchmen to helpthem!"

"Some of them took pilots aboard; indeed they were sent to them, and had no choice. But I must not get confused, and confuse you, Corinne. I'll just tell you what we did ourselves. 

"We heard a great talk going on on board one of the transport boatscalled the Goodwill, which was almost in the van of the fleet, Isuppose because the old sailing master, Killick, was so good aseaman; and so they had sent a pilot out to her, and he wasjabbering away at a great rate--"

"Just like all the Frenchies!" cut in Paul; "calling out that hewould never have acted pilot to an English ship except undercompulsion, and declaring that it was a dismal tale the survivorswould take to their own country--that Canada should be the grave ofthe whole army, and the St. Lawrence should bury beneath its wavesnine-tenths of the British ships, and that the walls of Quebecshould be lined with English scalps!"

"The wretch!" cried Corinne. "I wonder the sailors did not throwhim overboard to find his own grave!"

"I verily believe they would have done so, had it not been forstrict orders from the Admiral that the pilots were to be welltreated, " answered Arthur. "Our English Admirals and officers areall like that: they will never have any advantage taken of helplessprisoners. "

"I know, I know!" answered Corinne quickly; "that is where theyteach the French such a lesson. But go on--tell me more. What aboutold Killick? and where were you all the while?"

"Holding on to the side of the transport, where we could see andhear everything, and telling the sailors who were near about Quebecand what was going on there. But soon we were too much interestedin what was going on aboard to think of anything else. 

"Old Killick roared out after a bit, 'Has that confounded Frenchpilot done bragging yet?' And when somebody said he was ready toshow them the passage of the Traverse, he bawled out:

"'What! d'ye think I'm going to take orders from a dog of aFrenchman, and aboard my own vessel, too? Get you to the helm, Jim, and mind you take no orders from anybody but me. If that Frenchmantries to speak, just rap him on the head with a rope's end to keephim quiet!'

"And with that he rolled to the forecastle with his trumpet in hishand, and got the ship under way, bawling out his instructions tohis mate at the wheel, just as though he had been through the placeall his life!"

"Had he ever been there before?" asked Corinne breathlessly. 

"No, never. I heard the commanding officer and some of thegentlemen on board asking him, and remonstrating; but it was nouse. 

"'Been through before! no, never, ' he cried; 'but I'm going throughnow. '

"Then they told him that not even a French vessel with anexperienced sailing master ever dared take the passage without apilot, even though he might know it well. Whereupon old Killickpatted the officer upon the back, and said, 'Ay, ay, my dear, that's right enough for them; but hang me if I don't show you allthat an Englishman shall go at ease where a Frenchman daren't showhis nose! Come along with me, my dear, and I'll show you thisdangerous passage. '

"And he led him forward to the best place, giving his orders ascool and unconcerned as though he had been in the Thames itself. The vessel that followed, hearing what was going on, and beingafraid of falling into some peril herself, called out to know whothe rash sailing master was. 'I am old Killick!" roared back thebold old fellow himself, hearing the question, 'and that should beenough for you!'

"And he turned his back, and went on laughing and joking with theofficer, and bawling out his orders with all the confidence of anexperienced pilot. "

"O Colin! And did he make no mistake? And what did the pilot say?"

"Oh, he rolled up his eyes, and kept asking if they were sure theold fellow had never been there before; and when we had got throughthe great zigzag with never so much as the ghost of a misadventure, and the signalling boats pointed to the deeper water beyond, theold fellow only laughed, and said, 'Ay, ay, my dear, a terribledangerous navigation! Chalk it down, a terrible dangerousnavigation! If you don't make a sputter about it, you'll get nocredit in England!'

"Then lounging away to his mate at the helm, he bid him give it tosomebody else; and walking off with him, he said, 'Hang me if thereare not a thousand places in the Thames fifty times worse thanthat. I'm ashamed that Englishmen should make such a rout aboutit!' And when his words were translated to the pilot, he raised hishands to heaven in mute protest, and evidently regarded old Killickas something not quite human. "

"Hurrah for the old sea dog! That's the kind of mariner we have, Mademoiselle Corinne; that's the way we rule the waves! Hurrah forbrave old Killick! We'll make as little of getting into Quebec ashe did of navigating the Traverse!"

The story of the old captain's prowess ran through Quebec likelightning, and produced there a sensation of wonder not unmixedwith awe. If this was the spirit which animated the English fleet, what might not be the next move?

It was quickly known that the redoubtable Wolfe had landed upon theIsle of Orleans, and was marching in a westerly direction towardsthe point three or four miles distant from the city where he wouldbe able to obtain a better view than heretofore of the nature ofthe task to which he was pledged. 

"Let him come, " said the Marquis of Montcalm grimly; "let him havefrom thence a good view of our brave town and its defences!Perchance it will be a lesson to him, in his youthful pride. Hethinks he is a second Hannibal. It will cool his hot blood, perchance, to see the welcome we are prepared to accord to theinvaders of our soil. "

In effect there was another sort of welcome awaiting the Englishfleet; for upon the next day one of those violent squalls for whichthese northern waters are famous swept over the great river St. Lawrence, and in the town of Quebec there were rejoicing andtriumph. 

"Now let the British mariners look to themselves!" cried thepeople, shaking fists in the direction of the invisible fleet, which they knew was anchored off the south shore of the greatisland. "We shall soon see what they can do against one of ourCanadian tempests! Pray Heaven and all the saints that it may sinkevery one of them to the bottom, or grind them to pieces upon therocks!"

"Pooh! not a bit of it, " cried the midshipmen in contempt, though theywatched the storm with secret anxiety. "As though English-built vesselscould not ride out a capful of wind like this! See, it is clearing offalready! in an hour's time it will have subsided. As though our anchorswould not hold and our sailors keep their heads in such a little mocktempest as this!"

Luckily for the English fleet, the squall was as brief as it wasviolent; nevertheless it did do considerable damage to the ships attheir anchorage, and flying rumours were brought in as to theamount of harm inflicted. Certainly some considerable damage hadbeen done, but nothing beyond repair. It had not daunted one whitthe hearts of the invading foe. 

Montcalm came into the city that evening, and supped with the Abbeand Madame Drucour. He was not without anxiety, and yet was calmand hopeful. 

"The tempest did not last long enough to serve our turn as wehoped. The Governor trusted it would have destroyed the wholefleet; but from what I can learn, nothing was really lost except afew of the flat-bottomed landing boats used in the disembarkationof the troops. The English are certainly notable sailors; but it iswith her soldiers that we shall have more directly to deal. Still, I wish we could have sunk her ships; it would have placed her onthe horns of a dilemma. "

"I have heard, " said the Abbe, "that the Governor talks ofdestroying the fleet by fire. He has made considerable preparationfor such an attempt. "

Montcalm smiled slightly. 

"True; he has been busy with his fire ships for some while. For myown part, I have but limited faith in them. They have cost us amillion, and I doubt whether they will prove of any service; yetVaudreuil is very confident. "

"The Governor is wont to be confident--till the moment of actualperil arrives, " said the Abbe thoughtfully. "Well, we shall see--weshall see. When are these notable fire ships to be sent forth?"

"I think tomorrow night, " answered Montcalm, "but that is a matterwhich rests with the Governor. I have no concern in it; and whensuch is the case, I offer no advice and take no part in thearrangements. Doubtless I shall see what is going on from somevantage point; but Monsieur de Vaudreuil will not take counsel withme in the matter. "

"Fire ships!" cried the midshipmen, when Colin told them what hehad heard; "do they think to frighten English mariners withfireworks and bonfires? Good! let them try and see. And O Colin, good Colin, if they are going to send down fire ships upon thefleet, let us be there to see!"

Colin desired nothing better himself. He was all agog to see thething through. And why should they not? It was not difficult toobtain a boat, and in the darkness and confusion the four ladswould easily be able to follow the fire ships and see the wholething through. The midshipmen could navigate a boat with anyone, and Colin had learned much of their skill. All day they were oftento be seen skimming about the basin of the St. Lawrence, prospecting about for news, and watching the movements of theEnglish soldiers on shore, or of the fleet anchored a few milesfarther off. They had only to steal away unnoticed, and take totheir boat before the excitement began, and they could follow thephantom ships upon their mysterious way, and watch the wholeattempt against the English fleet. 

"Ah, but take me, " cried Corinne, when she heard thediscussion--"do take me! It is so hard to be a girl, and seenothing! I will not be in your way. I will not scream and cry, ordo anything like that. I only want to watch and see. I shall not beafraid. And I want so much to see something! I know I could slipaway without anyone's knowing or missing me. Only say you will takeme!"

"Of course we will take you, Mademoiselle Corinne, " cried Paul, with boyish gallantry; "why should you not see as well as we? Ihave a sister Margery at home who would be as wild to go as you canbe. She is as good as a boy any day. Wrap yourself well up in agreat cloak, so that you may keep warm, and so that nobody canguess we have a lady on board, and we will take care of you, neverfear!"

Corinne clapped her hands gaily; although growing to maidenhood, she had the heart of a child, and was full of delight at thethought of anything that promised adventure and excitement. 

"How good you are! And pray call me not 'Mademoiselle' any more;call me Corinne--all of you. Let me be an English girl, and yoursister; for, in sooth, I feel more and more English every day of mylife. Sometimes I fear that I shall be hanged for a traitor to thecause; for I find myself on the side of our English rivals more andmore every day!"

The compact thus sealed was easily carried out. The Abbe and hissister, Madame Drucour, were keenly interested in the attempt ofthe fire ships against the English fleet, and were to watchproceedings from the steeple of the Recollet Friars. The daylightlasted long now, and supper was over before the shadows began tofall; and the excited lads were able to wait till the seniors hadstarted forth before they made their own escape down to theharbour. 

Corinne wrapped herself in a long black cloak, drawing the hoodover her head, and thus disguising herself and her sex completelyfrom any prying eyes; but indeed they scarcely met anyone as theyhurried along through the narrow streets to the unfrequented wharf, where the boys had brought up the boat earlier in the day. Quicklythey were all aboard, and were gliding through the darkening water, whilst the crowd gathered at quite a different part of the harbourshowed where the launch of the fire ships was going on. 

Colin described them as well as he could. 

"There are three or four big ones, and Monsieur Delouche is incommand; and then there is a great fire raft, as they call it--alot of schooners, shallops, and such like, all chained together--aformidable-looking thing, for I got one of the sailors to show itme. I suppose they are all pretty much alike, crammed withexplosives and combustibles; old swivels and guns loaded up to themuzzle, grenades, and all sorts of things like that, some of theminvented for the occasion. We must give these fellows a wide berthwhen once they are set alight; for they will burn mightily, andshower lead and fire upon everything within reach. I only trustthey may not do fearful damage to the English ships!"

"Not they!" cried Peter, with a fine contempt in his voice. "TheFrenchies are safe to make a muddle of it somewhere; and our boldjack tars won't be scared by noise and flame. You'll soon see thesort of welcome they will give these fiery messengers. "

The night darkened. There was no moon, and the faint wreaths ofvapour lay lightly upon the wide waste of waters. Corinne gazedabout her with a sense of fascination. She had never before been sofar out upon the river; and how strange and ghostlike it appearedin the silence of the night!

Ten o'clock struck from the clocks in the town behind them, andColin turned back to look towards the harbour. 

"They were to start at ten, " he remarked. "Let us lie to now andwatch for them. We must give them a wide berth, but not be too fardistant to see what they do. "

Corinne gazed, breathless with excitement, along the darkeningwater. The silence and increasing darkness seemed to weigh uponthem like a tangible oppression. They could hear their own excitedbreathing; and all started violently when Arthur's voice suddenlybroke the silence by exclaiming:

"I see them! I see them--over yonder!"

The boat in which the eager lads and equally eager girl were afloatwas drifting about not very far distant from the Point of Orleans, where were an English outpost and some English shipping, althoughthe main part of the fleet was some distance further on. Thewatchers expected that the ghostly ships, gliding upon their silentway, would pass this first shipping in silence and under cover ofthe darkness, and only begin to glow and fire when close to thelarger part of the hostile fleet. Yet as they watched the oncomingvessels through the murk of the night, they saw small tongues offlame beginning to flicker through the gloom, and run up the mastsand sails like live things; and all in a moment came a smotheredroar and a bright flashing flame which, for the few seconds itlasted, showed the whole fire fleet stealing onwards, and the boatsby which the crews of them were making good their escape. 

"They have fired them too soon!" cried Colin, in great excitement. "I know they were not to have done it till they had passed thePoint and got well into the south channel, where all the shippinglies. "

"Hurrah!" cried Peter, waving his cap; "did we not say that theFrenchies would make a mess of it? They may be good for somethingon land; but at sea--"

There was no hearing the end of the sentence; for with a roar likethat of a volcano in eruption one of the ships burst into a mass offlames, whilst the rest became lighted up by the glare, and weresoon adding to the conflagration--the fire racing up their mastsand rigging, and showing them against the black waters like vesselsof lambent flame. 

"How beautiful, yet how terrible!" cried Corinne, as she gazed withfascinated eyes. "But look--look--look--look how the water is tornup with the shower of lead that falls from them! Are they not likefiery dragons spouting out sheets of fire? Oh, and listen how theyhiss and roar! Are they not like live things? Oh, it is the mostterrible thing I have ever seen. How glad I am that they are notrunning amongst the English ships! They are beautiful, terriblecreatures; but I think they are doing no hurt to anything. "

"And look yonder!" cried Peter, pointing landwards in greatexcitement; "see those long red lines drawn up on shore! Those areour English soldiers, all ready to receive the foe should they seekto land under cover of this noise and smoke and confusion. Asthough our British grenadiers would be scared by false fire likeyon fireworks!"

"And see, see again!" yelled Paul, still more excited--"see oursailors getting to their boats! They are going to row out andgrapple those flaming monsters. See if it be not so. They aredrifting down a little too near our few ships. You will see now foryourself, Corinne, the stuff of which our mariners are made!"

"Oh surely, surely they will not go near those terrible vessels!"cried Corinne. 

"Yes, but they will, " cried Arthur, watching their movementskeenly; "oh, would I were with them to help! See, see! they aregetting their grappling irons into the boats. That means they aregoing to grapple these blazing ships, and tow them somewhere out ofharm's way. Hurrah for England and England's sailors! Now you willsee what our answer will be to these fiery messengers. "

Corinne clasped her hands in mute wonder and amaze as the boatsshot off from shore, bearing straight down upon the great fireraft--the most formidable of all the fleet--which was spoutingflame and lead, and blazing like a live volcano, roaring the whilelike a veritable wild beast, as though animated by a demon of fury. 

"They never can go near it; they will be burned alive!" cried thegirl, in affright. 

But the midshipmen watched the tactics of the boats with eyes fullof eager comprehension. 

"They will tackle it somehow, you will see, " cried Peter. "See, they are getting round to the leeward of it, and they will lie offtill it has finished its most deadly spouting. But it is driftingdown upon the ships at anchor. They will never let it get amongstthem. You will see--you will see! O brave jack tars, show themettle you are made of in the eyes of all Quebec this night!"

Corinne could scarcely bear to look, and yet she could not turn hereyes away. The English sailors, laughing and joking the while, swarmed round the fiery monster in their boats, singing out to oneanother, and at favourable moments flinging their grappling ironsand sheering off again. 

"All's well! all's well!" they kept calling out, as one afteranother they fixed their hold; then with united and manful effort, and with a sing-song sound which came rolling over the water withstrange effect, they commenced towing their blazing prize away fromthe ships she was nearing rather too threateningly, whilst greatshouts and rounds of cheering went up from those afloat and ashore. 

"Oh, well done, well done, brave men!" cried Corinne, roused to akeen enthusiasm; and in one of the pauses of the cheering, whensilence had fallen upon the spectators owing to a sudden viciousoutrush of flame, which seemed for a moment as though it mustoverwhelm the gallant English tars, a voice came from one of thetow boats, calling out to a companion in another:

"I say, Jack, didst thou ever take hell in tow afore?"

The monster raft, flaming and sputtering, together with the otherfire ships beyond, was coolly towed ashore by the intrepid sailors, and all were left to burn away harmlessly upon the strand, wherethey could hurt nothing; whilst peals of laughter and cheering wentup from the English camp. 

"Poor Monsieur de Vaudreuil!" exclaimed Colin, as he prepared tosail back to the dark city, "I wonder if he has seen the fate ofhis vaunted fire ships?"

Chapter 4: Hostilities. 

"Alas! alas!" wailed the townsfolk, when the news of the fiasco ofthe fire ships was made known, "those dogs of English are too muchfor us upon the water; but let them attempt to meet us on land, andwe will show them what we can do!"

"Do they think French soldiers are the only ones who can fight?"asked Arthur, with a note of wondering scorn in his voice, as thesense of these words came to him. "Well, they will have their wishfast enough, I doubt not! Wolfe is here; and if he cannot fight, write me down an ass! They have seen what the sailors can do; nowwe will show them what our soldiers are good for!"

"Don't boast, Arthur, " quoth Peter, the eldest of the trio; "we cando without great swelling words. The French boast themselves intothe belief that they hold this whole vast continent in possession. We must not be like them, and seek to boast ourselves into Quebec!We will wait till our flag is flying from yon battlement, and thenit will be time enough to talk. "

"All right, " answered Arthur gaily; "I'll wager it will not be longbefore we see it there!"

"Only don't let our townsfolk hear you saying that, " said Corinne, laughing, "else they may be disposed to set you hanging thereinstead!"

And at that retort a laugh was raised against Arthur, who was alittle disposed to gasconade, and to an unmerited scorn of thevalour of their French rivals. 

"Nor will Quebec be taken in a day, nor a week, nor a month, " addedCorinne, "if all we hear be true. Monsieur de Montcalm has nointention, it is said, of meeting your Wolfe in battle. He means tolie behind these strong walls, and yonder formidable earthworkswhich protect his camp, and wear out the patience of the foe tillthe autumn storms force them to leave these coasts for a saferharbourage. There will be no fighting in the open, they say; allwill be done by the guns cannonading us, and by ours returning thefire. It may be grand and terrible to watch, but it will not bringthings quickly to an issue. "

"Yet Wolfe will contrive something to keep the foe busy, or I ammuch mistaken, " cried Peter. "Doubtless a pitched battle is what hewould most desire; but if that is not to be, he will find a way ofharassing his foes. Never fear, Corinne; you will see enough of warbefore long--trust my word for that!"

"Enough, and too much, perchance, " said the girl, with a little, quick sigh; "my aunt tells me that war is a fearful game to behold. Sometimes my heart sinks within me at what is about to befall. Andyet I am glad to be here; I would not be elsewhere. I long to seethis great struggle and watch it through. All say that Quebec isthe key of Canada. Whichever nation holds Quebec will be master ofthe whole vast province. "

"Ay, and Wolfe knows that as well as the French themselves. His cryhas always been, 'To Quebec!'

"And yonder he is, within a few miles of his goal! Now we shall seewhat he can do. "

In truth they were very soon to see and feel for themselves in thecity what Wolfe could and would do. 

A day or two later sounds of excitement and alarm in the streetproclaimed that something fresh was afoot, and Colin with hiscomrades darted out to learn the news. The citizens were gatheringtogether and running for places which commanded a view over the river, and those who had telescopes or spyglasses were adjusting them withtrembling hands, pointing them all in one direction--namely, towardsthe heights of Point Levi opposite, where the river narrowed itselftill it was less than a mile wide. 

"What is it?" cried Colin to a man with a glass at his eye. 

"The English soldiers are there!" he answered; "I can see their redcoats swarming up the heights. Holy Virgin protect us! They aremaking fascines and gabions. They are going to bring up their guns. They will be able to lay the houses of the Lower Town in ruins, even if they cannot touch the fortifications. Why did not theGovernor leave a stronger force over yonder to protect us?"

That question was being passed from mouth to mouth by the anxiousand frightened townspeople. They had been full of confidence andcourage up till now; but the news that Wolfe had taken Point Levi, and was bringing up guns and intrenching himself upon the heights, filled them with apprehension. 

"What are our guns doing that they do not open fire and dislodgethem?" cried one voice after the other. "Where is the Marquis ofMontcalm? Why does he not take steps for our defence?"

Montcalm was indeed coming post haste to the city, seeing clearlythe menace in this action of the English General. He bitterlyregretted having left the defence of Point Levi to the Canadiancontingent there; for the Canadians were very uncertain soldiers, and were easily discouraged, though if well led and generalled theycould be of great service in certain kinds of warfare. But it wasknown that the Canadians were already beginning to look upon theEnglish as their possible new rulers; and some of them weredisposed to regard a change of masters almost with indifference, solong as they were not interfered with in their own possessions. Itwas quite likely they had only made a very half-hearted resistanceto the English foe; at least one thing was certain--Wolfe hadgained possession of these heights with singularly littledifficulty. 

But Montcalm was not going to let him remain there if he could byany means dislodge him. Hardly had the General entered the fortressbefore Corinne heard, almost for the first time, the strangescreaming noise of a shell hurtling through the air, and the nextmoment there were gushes of smoke from a dozen places along thefortifications, as the great guns were pointed and fired and theballs and bombs went flying across the great river, to fall amongstthe busy toilers on the opposite height, carrying death anddestruction with them. 

Eagerly was the result of the fire watched and waited for. Thecitizens cried out to those with glasses to tell them the result. 

"They take no notice, " cried one man who was commandingly posted;"they toil on without so much as a pause. The fire has not touchedthem yet; the guns are pointed too low. They are bringing up theirown guns now; they have one battery almost complete. In a few hoursthey will be ready to return our fire. Can nothing be done to stopthat? Our houses and churches will be knocked to pieces, and ourtown destroyed! The General says that this will do them nogood--they cannot touch the citadel and fortifications; but are weto have our homes destroyed about our ears? We men of Quebec willnot stand that!"

Fear and indignation were filling all hearts. Why had Point Levibeen so poorly defended? Why had it been left such an easy prey tothe foe? Who was to blame? Governor or General--Vaudreuil orMontcalm? The balance of opinion was in favour of the General, whose known ability and personal charm had rendered him popularwith the citizens, whilst Vaudreuil commanded but little respect orconfidence. Still, whoever was to blame, the fact remained. Thetown was in terrible danger of a ruinous bombardment, and theefforts now made to beat back and dislodge the enemy met with nosort of success. 

On and on they toiled. The shot and shell certainly fell amongstthem after a while, but seemed in no whit to disconcert them. TheCanadian soldiers regarded with amaze this cool intrepidity. Theythemselves could be bold in forest warfare, with shelter all aroundthem; but they were never steady in the open under fire, and couldhardly credit how any soldiers could pursue their tasks unmoved bythe leaden rain descending upon and about them. 

"The devil and his angels must be protecting them!" cried thewomen, crossing themselves in fear; but the English midshipmenlaughed aloud. 

"What do they think soldiers are for, if not to do their duty inthe teeth of danger and difficulty? They are a strange people, these Canadians. Surely the French troops would face peril assteadily if they were put to it?"

"Oh yes, " answered Colin; "the French regulars fight exceedinglywell. Has not that been proved a thousand times on European soil?But the plaint of our General is that France sends him so few men, and that the Indians and Canadians are not of the same value, savein certain classes of warfare and in their native forests. TheGovernor is, however, so jealous for the honour of his Canadians, that he seeks in his dispatches to give all the credit of victoryto them. So it is natural that the French minister should be charyof sending out regulars, which are so urgently needed over therefor the war. Monsieur de Montcalm has told my uncle many things onthis very point. He is always urging the Government to send us moremen, but he can only get the half of what he needs. Perhaps, indays to come, France may regret that she did not listen better tohis representations. We shall have need of good men if this city isto be held for her against the English. "

When the lads reached their home, they found the Abbe and hissister deep in talk. Corinne had been listening with attention, butnow she turned eagerly to the lads, to ask what news they brought. Their tale was soon told, and all faces were grave. 

"It will be a disastrous thing for the city to be bombarded, " saidthe Abbe. "It may not bring the capitulation any nearer, but itwill harass and dishearten the citizens. I am truly sorry for them;they will certainly suffer. It should have been better managed thanthat those opposite heights should fall so easy a prey to the foe. Again that is the mismanagement of the Governor. "

"Several boats have come over from the opposite shore, " whisperedCorinne to her brother, "bringing news of what happened there. There has been little enough resistance to the English soldiers. Aparty landed at Beaumont, sending in front a band of Rangers, whohad a little scuffle with some Canadians in the woods, and drovethem off. The soldiers landed, and a placard was posted upon thedoor of the church. It was signed by Wolfe. It told the Canadiansthat if they would stand neutral in the coming struggle, theyshould have full protection both of their persons and property, andundisturbed liberty of religion; but warned them that if theypresumed to take up arms against the English, their houses andgoods should be destroyed and their churches despoiled. Thisplacard the Canadians removed when the soldiers had gone, and havebrought it to Quebec for the Governor to see. "

"And what says he?"

"Nay, we know not, but it has caused a great commotion in the town. If the Canadians do not stand by the French in this struggle, theEnglish must needs be victors. "

"Ay, " spoke the Abbe, whose face was very grave, "and the case isbut an evil one for them, as they begin to see. Already they areweary of the war. They love not the life of the camp or the waitingwhich is now imposed upon them. They are longing already to getback to their homes and their farms, and see after their crops andharvests. Yet if they refuse service under their masters theFrench, they are threatened with Indian raids; and if they fightthe English, they are now threatened with their fury and vengeance. It is small wonder that they are perplexed and half-hearted. Weshall have trouble with them, I fear me, ere the battle has beenfought and won. "

Trouble was certainly menacing the town. There was no immediatedanger of its falling into the enemy's hands; but he was puttinghimself in a position from which he could inflict irritating andharassing injury to the town, and was making evident and activepreparations to do so. The military authorities, who looked at thelarger issues of affairs, regarded with perhaps a little too muchcoolness the prospect of the destruction of some churches and alarge number of houses and other buildings, consoling themselveswith the knowledge that the fortifications would not suffergreatly, and that Wolfe would be no nearer taking Quebec after hehad laid in ruins the homes of the citizens. But the exasperationof these individuals was great, and their fear rose with every hourwhich passed. They saw that batteries were being erected, intrenchments thrown up; that their fire was no check to theactivity of the foe; and that before very long the storm of shotand shell would be returned with interest, and would fall upontheir city, making terrible havoc there. 

Something must be done! That was the word on all lips. In warlikedays even peaceful citizens are not altogether ignorant of the artsof war, and the burghers in the streets were mustering strongtogether, every man of them armed, their faces stern and full ofdetermination as they moved all together to one of the open squaresin the city, and the place soon presented a most animatedappearance. 

Not citizens alone, but pupils from the seminaries, Canadians fromthe other shore, and a sprinkling of soldiers had joined themuster. Every man carried arms, and when they had assembled to thenumber of between one and two thousand, a loud call was made forthe Governor. 

When Vaudreuil appeared, looking harassed and anxious, it wasexplained to him that the burghers of the city demanded leave tomake a determined effort to save their houses and property fromdestruction. Would the Governor grant them an experienced officerto lead them? They would then cross the river at night, make acompass round the English camp, and set upon them from behind atdawn, whilst the guns from the town opened fire in front. Caughtthus between two fires, and attacked front and rear, they mustquickly be dislodged and annihilated; and the citizens would makethemselves masters of these hostile batteries, which they wouldtake good care should never fall into English hands again. 

Their request was granted. An officer of considerable experience, Dumas by name, was told off to head the expedition, and a good manyregular soldiers, who volunteered for the service, were permittedto accompany them. 

Dearly would the three midshipmen have loved to be of the party, tosee all that went on, but they knew they must not make such asuggestion. They were known in the town as prisoners on parole. Itwould appear to all that they meditated escape. But they urged uponColin to try to see it all, and bring word again what had befallen. 

Colin was nothing loth. He longed to be in the thick of thestruggle. Moreover, he was well known to the citizens, and wasloved for his own sake as well as for that of his uncle the Abbe, who went daily to and fro amongst the agitated people, seeking tocalm their fears and to inspire them with courage and hope. 

"I will go!" he cried. "Watch you from this side, and mark how thegunners do their work at dawn. If all goes well, our signal forattack will be the sound of the guns opening fire upon yonderbatteries. And yet I shall scarcely wish to see the Englishdislodged. I do not want our town laid in ruins; yet I trulybelieve the English rule would be a benefit to this distractedrealm. Their own colonies, if report speaks truth, are far moreflourishing and strong than any France has ever planted. You havethe knack of it, you Britons. Sometimes I doubt whether we shallever learn it. "

"Don't say 'we, '" cried Arthur. "You are more than half anEnglishman already, and we will teach you to be one of us before wehave done. You neither look nor speak nor act like a Frenchie. Ofcourse here in Quebec, amongst your own acquaintances and friends, you will feel to belong in some sort to them; but once we get youinto English ranks, you will soon forget that you ever wereanything but an Englishman at heart. "

Colin was almost ready to believe this himself, though he scarcelyliked to put it so broadly, lest it should seem like treachery tohis own family and friends. He was possessed of a very keenadmiration for British pluck and boldness and audacity. The thingshe had heard and seen had fired his enthusiasm, and he was quite ofthe opinion that were the free choice to be one day his, he wouldchoose to throw in his lot with the English invaders of Canadiansoil. To watch how this game of skill and address was to be playedout between the two powers was now his great aim and object, and hewas eager to be a spectator in the next scene of the drama. 

His way was made quite easy; for the Abbe himself resolved toaccompany the expedition, and watch from a distance the effect ofthe combined attack upon the English batteries. He would have beenbetter satisfied had Montcalm been consulted; but he was away atBeauport, and if the citizens were to achieve anything, it would bebetter for them to strike whilst the iron was hot. Another day andthe leaden storm might have opened upon the city, and the heartmight be taken out of them. 

All was now hurry and confusion--too much confusion for theapproval of the Abbe, who, with the officer in command and theregular troops, sought to allay it, and to infuse more ofdiscipline and organization into the arrangements. 

Colin ran back to say farewell to Corinne and Madame Drucour; andthey bid him be careful of himself, and come back amongst the firstto bring them news. After promising this Colin departed, and thenight fell upon the town--a restless night for those within itswalls; for there was scarce a house but had contributed its one ormore members for the expedition, and all knew that the salvation oftheir homes depended upon the success of the attack. 

It was a hot, dark night, and there was little sleep in the city. It would be impossible to hear at that distance, even if somehand-to-hand fighting were to take place on the opposite bank. Thewind set the wrong way, and only if the big guns boomed out wouldthey be likely to know that the English had been aroused. Eagerlywas the dawn waited for, when the city guns would give the expectedsignal; but the dawn came so wrapped in fog, and it was not quiteas early as was expected that the boom and roar from thefortifications told that the gunners could sight the opposingbatteries. The blanket of fog seemed then to roll up and away, leaving the glistening river lying like a sheet of silver at theirfeet. 

But what was the meaning of that crowd of boats all making for thecity as fast as oars and sails could bring them? It was hardly sixo'clock in the morning, and the attack could not well have beencommenced before five. What, then, were they doing, hurrying backin their boats like hunted hares?

Those with telescopes, watching from the heights above, declaredthat the English were pursuing their occupations with the mostperfect unconcern, that they were bringing up more guns, and thatthe batteries were now so well planted and defended that the cityguns did no harm. Shell away as they might from Quebec, no effectwas produced upon their solid earthworks; and it was abundantlyevident that very soon they would he in a position to open fireupon the hapless city. Down to the river level rushed the excitedpeople, to meet the returning boats. Such a clamour of inquiry, response, anger, and disappointment arose that at first nothingcould be made out. The midshipmen cleared a path for the Abbe andColin through the gathering crowd; and as soon as they were fairlywithin the walls of their home, they began to tell the dismal tale. 

"It was just a fiasco from first to last!" cried Colin. "It was asour uncle said: there was no order or discipline or preparation. One might as well have sent out a pack of children to do the work!"

"What happened?" cried Corinne breathlessly. 

"Why, nothing but a series of gross blunders. We got across allsafe, and landed unopposed. The Seminary scholars were over first, and marched off up the hill before the rest came. We got separatedin that way, and almost at once one felt that a sort of panic hadgot hold of the people. The burghers who were so anxious to comenow got frightened, and were most difficult to get into order. Dumas and the regulars did their utmost; but it was plain that thepeople were scared out of their lives lest the English shouldsuddenly appear and attack them. After a long time we got into asort of order, and began the march, when all of a sudden there werea crash and a blaze, and everything was thrown into confusion. Theyyelled out that the English were upon them, and headed for theboats. "

"O Colin--the men who were so keen to fight!" cried Corinne; whilstthe midshipmen doubled themselves up with laughter, exclaimingbeneath their breath:

"O gallant burghers of Quebec!"

"It was disgraceful!" cried Colin hotly; "and more disgracefulstill was it that the fire came from our own side--from theSeminary scholars, who had gone in advance; a thing they had nobusiness to do. But this was not the worst--at least it was not theend of the bungling; for if you will believe me, the same thinghappened three distinct times. Twice more after we had got the menformed up again, and were leading them up the hill behind theEnglish guns, did those wretched Seminary scholars mistake them forthe enemy and fire into their ranks. The last time they killed ascore or more, and wounded quite a large number of others. That wastoo much. The men turned tail and fled helter-skelter back to theboats, and there was no getting them back after that. The scholars, too, when they heard what they had done, were seized with panic, and joined the rout. 

"I never saw such a scene in my life as the opposite shorepresented just as the dawn was breaking and the first gun boomedout, and we knew that we ought to have been marching in compactorder along the crest of the hill to fall upon the gunners frombehind. Well, if this is how Quebec manages her affairs, shedeserves to have her houses battered in. We shall soon have theanswer from the English batteries, and we shall deserve it, too!"

Colin was right. The iron storm began all too soon, and proved tothe full as destructive as had been feared. Churches and houseswere laid in ruins, and disastrous fires broke out, consumingothers. The unhappy occupants of the Lower Town fled from thesmoking ruins, some to take refuge with friends in the Upper Town, which was considerably less exposed; others to fly into the opencountry beyond, where they trusted to be safe from the Englishinvader. As the military authorities had proclaimed, thisdestruction did not materially affect the position of thebelligerents--the English could not get much nearer their object byshelling the town--but it did much to dishearten the citizens, andproduced a strong moral effect of depression, and murmurs evenarose in isolated quarters that it would be better to surrenderthan to be destroyed. 

Moreover, disquieting reports came from other places. The camp ofMontcalm extended, as has been said, from the river St. Charles tothe Falls of Montmorency. That great gorge was consideredprotection enough, and it was believed that no enemy would be rashenough to try to cross the river higher up; indeed, it waspopularly supposed that there was no ford. Nevertheless it soonbecame known that Wolfe had effected a landing upon the farthershore of the Montmorency; that he was fortifying a camp there, andhad found and was now holding a ford in the river above, whence, ifhe chose, he could cross and fall upon the camp at Beauport. 

There had been some argument at first as to the advisability ofdislodging him before he had made himself strong enough to resistattack. The Intendant had given his voice in favour of the attack;but for once the Governor and the General had been of one mind, andhad decided against it. 

"Let him stay where he is, " said Montcalm, after he had surveyedthe position; "he can do us little harm there. If we dislodge him, he may find a footing elsewhere, and prove much more dangerous andtroublesome. If he tries to get across to us, we shall have awelcome ready!"

So, though parties of Canadians and Indians harassed the English intheir camp, and were met and routed by the gallant Rangers, whoalways accompanied the English forces, the soldiers remained intheir intrenchments, and took little notice of the rival camp. Sometimes under flags of truce messages passed between the hostilecamps. 

"You will no doubt batter and demolish a great part of the town, "wrote Montcalm on one occasion, "but you will never get inside it!"

"I will have Quebec, " wrote back Wolfe, "if I stay here till thewinter. I have come from England to win it. I do not go back tillmy task is done. "

Some smiled at that message; but Madame Drucour received it with alittle shivering sigh. 

"Ah, " she exclaimed, "I have seen Monsieur Wolfe; I can hear himspeak the words! Somehow it seems to me that he is a man who willnever go back from his resolve. If he has made up his mind to takeQuebec, Quebec will be taken!"

Book 6: Without Quebec. 

Chapter 1: In Sight Of His Goal. 

Wolfe stood rapt in thought beside the batteries upon Point Levi. From his own camp at the Montmorency falls he had come over in aboat to visit Brigadier Moncton's camp, opposite the city ofQuebec; and now he stood surveying the town--and the havoc wroughtupon its buildings by his cannon--with a glass at his eye, a lookof great thoughtfulness and care stamped upon his thin face. 

Near at hand, ready to answer if addressed, was Brigadier Moncton, a brave and capable officer; and a little farther off, alsowatching the General and the scene spread out before him, stood alittle group of three, who had come across with Wolfe in the boat, and who were, in fact, none other than our old friends, FritzNeville, Julian Dautray, and Humphrey Angell. 

It had been an immense joy to these three men to meet together inthe camp of Wolfe round about Quebec. Julian had accompanied theexpedition from England, Fritz had joined Admiral Durell'scontingent whilst it was waiting for junction with the fleet fromEngland, and Humphrey had come to join them in the transport shipsfrom New York, bringing news of friends in Philadelphia, where hehad passed a portion of the time of waiting. 

Now these three comrades, so long parted, and now brought togetherby the chances of war, were almost inseparable. Wolfe had appointedthem posts about his own person, having taken for Fritz almost thesame warm liking that he had from the first felt towards Julian andHumphrey, and which, in the case of Julian, had ripened into a deepand ardent friendship. 

Whilst the young General was making his survey, rapt in thoughtswhich as yet he kept to himself, the three comrades spoke togetherof the war and the outlook. 

"It will be a hard nut to crack, this city of Quebec, " saidHumphrey; "they were all saying that in Philadelphia as I left. Yetall men say that Quebec is the key of Canada. If that falls intoour hands, we shall be masters of the country. "

"And if our General has set his mind upon it, he will accomplishit, " said Julian briefly. 

"He is a wonderful man, " said Fritz, with a look of admirationdirected towards the tall, slim figure of the soldier; "would thathis body were as strong as his spirit! Sometimes when I look at himI fear that the blade is too keen for the scabbard. That ardentspirit will wear out the frail body. "

"That is the danger, " said Julian gravely; "but it is wonderfulwhat he can compel that frail body to go through. He will rise froman almost sleepless night of pain and exhaustion, and do the workof a man in sound health, infusing life and energy and enthusiasminto everyone with whom he comes in contact! Truly the King's wordsabout him contained a great truth. "

"What words?" asked Fritz. 

"Why, you know that this Wolfe of ours is but a young man, gallantenough, but far younger and less known than many another of halfhis capacity. You know, too, that the Duke of Newcastle, to whoseblundering we owe half our misfortunes in the west, was never knownto make a wise selection of men for posts of command, and wasshocked and alarmed when he heard that Pitt had appointed acomparatively young and untried man for the command of such anexpedition as this. He once said testily to the King that Pitt'snew general was mad. 

"'Mad is he?' quoth His Majesty, with a laugh; 'then I hope he willbite some more of my generals!'"

Fritz laughed at the sally. 

"In truth we could have done with some more of that sort of madnessamongst the leaders of those border wars which have ended sodisastrously for us. But in very truth the tide did turn, as theAbbe Messonnier had foretold, when Pitt's hand was placed upon thehelm of England's government. So much has been accomplished alreadythat I myself do not believe we shall turn our backs upon thesescenes before Quebec is ours. "

"That is what they say in Philadelphia, " cried Humphrey--"thatQuebec must and shall fall. If General Amherst can but captureTiconderoga and Crown Point, he will march to our assistance byland. Then the French will be caught between two armies, and thenut will be cracked indeed! Did I tell you that our kinsmanBenjamin Ashley has declared that, directly Quebec falls, he willcome and visit the great city of which so much has been spoken, tosee for himself the great work? If he does this, he will bring hiswife and Susanna with him. You cannot think how keenly alive thePhiladelphians are becoming to the glory it will be to rid Canadaof French rule, and found an English-speaking colony there. TheQuakers still stand aloof, and talk gloomily of the sin of warfare;but the rest of the people heed them no whit. They have furnishedand equipped a gallant band to join General Amherst, and they arekindling with a great enthusiasm in the cause. Even our old friendEbenezer Jenkyns has been talking great swelling words of warlikeimport. He would have joined the militia, he says, had not hisfather forbidden him. "

"It is well they have awoke at last, " said Fritz, a little grimly;"but it would have been better had they done so before their borderwas harried, and their brothers and countrymen done to death by thebands of Indian marauders. "

At which saying Humphrey's face grew dark; for there was stampedupon his brain one scene the memory of which would never beeffaced, though it should be a thousandfold avenged. 

"I would that Charles could have lived to see the day when theEnglish should enter the city of Quebec!"

He spoke beneath his breath; but Fritz heard him, and answered withthoughtful gravity:

"Perhaps it were not true kindness to wish him back. His death blowwas struck when his wife and children perished. The days whichremained to him were days of sorrow and pain. The light of hislife, the desire of his eyes, had been taken away. He lived but foran act of vengeance, and when that was accomplished, I believe hewould have faded out of life had it not been that his own life wasextinguished at the same time as that of his foe. "

Humphrey made a silent sign of assent. He could not speak much evenyet of the tragic fate of his brother, or of the events which hadled to it. Fritz turned the subject by speaking of John Stark andthe Rangers, asking Humphrey what had been known of them since thebreaking-up of the band after the disaster of Ticonderoga. 

"I saw Stark, " answered Humphrey eagerly. "Have I not told youbefore? Ah well, we have not much time for talking these busy days. Yes, I saw Stark; he came to visit his kinsfolk of the inn when Iwas in Philadelphia. He has gone now with Amherst's party. He willjoin Rogers, I suppose; and, doubtless, the Rangers will again dogood service, as they do everywhere. He was in half a mind to comenorth with the expedition for Quebec, but decided that he would beof more use in country every foot of which was familiar to him. Buthe declared that, if once Ticonderoga were to fall, he would bringus the news faster than any other messenger. How he will come, andby what route, I know not; but this I know, that if there is avictory for English arms yonder in the west, and if John Stark benot killed, the sight of his face amongst us here will be the signto us that the victory has been won. "

"And right welcome will be the sight of his face, " cried Fritz, "behis news what it may. John Stark is one of the best and bravest menI know. I have told our General many a tale of him and his prowess. Wolfe will have a welcome for him if he ever appears here. "

Wolfe seemed to have finished his survey. He took the glass fromhis eye and looked round him. Moncton was at his side in a moment. He, in common with all who fought with and under him, had a greatadmiration for the gallant young General. 

"Moncton, " said Wolfe, in a voice loud enough for the other threeto hear plainly, "I want to get some ships past the city into theupper reach of the river. The French General will not fight. I givehim chance after chance against me, but he does not take it. Hethinks a waiting game will serve his turn best, and perhaps he isright. But we must leave no stone unturned to harass and perplexhim. I want a footing in the upper reach of the river. I want toget some vessels past the town. "

Moncton drew his lips together in a silent whistle. 

"Will not the town batteries sink them like logs as they pass?" heasked. 

"They will, if they see them. They have left the river free ofvessels; they trust entirely to their guns. But our sailors havedone bolder deeds before this than the passing of some batteriesupon a dark night. If you were to cover their advance by a furiouscannonade upon the town, do you not think we could slip a few pastthose frowning batteries, and make a new basis of operations forourselves in the upper reach of the river, above the town?"

Moncton's eyes glistened. It was a daring project, but it was notwithout promise of success. Such things might be done, and yetthere was serious risk. 

"It will weaken us in one way, " pursued Wolfe, speaking in hisquiet, meditative fashion. "As it is, we are divided into threecamps--one here, one at Montmorency, and one on the Isle ofOrleans. If we carry out this plan, we shall be divided into four;and should any pressing danger menace any one of those four camps, it might be some while before assistance could be sent. And yet Iam more than half disposed to try. Montcalm does not appear to haveany intention of attacking us. And if we weaken ourselves, we shallalso weaken him by this movement. At present he is concentratinghis whole strength in and below the city. If we get a footing onthe upper river, he will have to send a contingent there to watchus. Whether we have any reasonable hope of getting at the city inthat way, I cannot yet tell; I know too little of the character ofthe ground. But at least we shall have won a strategic victory ingetting our ships past the guns of Quebec; and we shall causeconsternation and alarm there, even if nothing else. "

"I will cover the movement with all the power of my guns, " criedMoncton eagerly; "and if the thing can be done, our sailors will doit; they are in no whit afraid of the enemy's guns. And look--ifthe ships get through, why not let our red-coats and blue-jacketsdrag a fleet of boats across the base of this Point Levi, along thelow ground yonder, and launch them in the river above, where theycan join the ships and bring them reinforcements of men? Then weshall have means of transporting men and provisions to thesevessels, and the sight of them upon their upper river will furtherdishearten the citizens of Quebec, who have been very well punishedalready by our guns. "

"Yes, " answered Wolfe. "I would sooner have shattered the citadelthan the houses and convents; but we must e'en do what we can inthis game of war. But your idea is excellent, Moncton. If the shipssucceed in making the passage, the boats shall certainly be broughtacross, as you suggest. It will be a strategic triumph for us, eventhough we do not reap immediate fruit from it. And if once Amherstcan march to join us, it will be everything to have shipping in theupper river. "

"And you are hopeful that he will?"

"If he can make good his position upon the lakes and in the west. Ihave information that things are going well for us there; but sofar no definite news of the capture of Ticonderoga has reached us. It is rumoured that Niagara is attacked, and is likely to pass intoour hands. There is no doubt that the French all along the westernboundary are in extremity. If Quebec goes, all will go; they willhave no heart to hold out. But, on the other hand, if we are beatenhere, and are forced to retreat unsuccessfully, it will have agreat moral effect throughout Canada. "

"Canada is becoming very half-hearted towards its French masters, "said Moncton. "We hear a good deal from prisoners brought to thecamp by our scouts. We had one brought in the other day--a cunningold rascal, but by no means reticent when we had plied him withport wine. He said that they were sick to death of the struggle, and only wished it over one way or the other. They would be gladenough to stand neutral, and serve either French or Englishaccording as the victory went; but their priests threaten them withspiritual terrors if they do not fight for the cause of HolyChurch, as they term it, whilst the military authorities threatenthem with the Indians, and we, on the other side, with thedestruction of their farms and houses if they interfere in any waywith us. Their case is certainly a hard one. "

"It is, " answered Wolfe; "but, all the same, I am not going topermit any infringement of the orders I have laid down. If thepeople will stand neutral or help us, they shall have protectionand all reasonable help if the Indians attack them; but if theyprefer to obey their French masters or their priestly tyrants, andharry and worry us, I keep my word, and I send out harrying partiesto drive off their cattle and bring themselves prisoners to ourcamps. No violence shall be done them; no church shall be violated;not a finger shall be laid upon any woman or child. If outrages arecommitted by my soldiers, the men shall instantly be hanged orshot. But I will have no infringement of my commands. What I say Imean. I have posted up my intentions. The people know what theyhave to expect. The free choice is theirs. If they will not takethe offered protection, they must abide by the consequences. "

Inflexible firmness was written upon the thin face of the youngGeneral. Cruelty was abhorrent to him whatever form it took; but hecould be stern and rigorous in the prosecution of any plan whichhad been adopted after careful consideration. He knew that thegreatest blessing to the Canadians would be the termination of thislong and wearing war. From his heart he believed that transferencefrom French to English rule would be the happiest possible changeof fortune for them. Therefore he did not shrink from any measureswhich should tend to bring about this consummation; and whilstgiving them every opportunity to save themselves and their propertyby aiding or at least not interfering with or opposing hismeasures, he made it abundantly plain that, if they persisted ininimical courses, they would be treated as enemies. 

The idea of effecting a passage of the city and forming a camp, orat least a flotilla, above the town was a matter which affordedmuch discussion and excitement throughout the English ranks. Thedaring of it appealed to all hearts, and the sailors when theyheard it were keen for the enterprise, confident of success wereonly a dark night to be chosen for the attempt. Old Killick, withhis hands in his pockets, rolled up and down his deck, chewing aquid of tobacco, and giving his opinions on the subject. 

"Pass Quebec! bless you, my dears, I'll undertake to pass the townguns any hour of the day or night you like to send me. What a routthey did make, to be sure, about their old river! They make justsuch a rout about their precious guns! What English ship everfeared to pass a French battery yet? Give me a capful of wind, andI'll undertake to get my boat past whilst the Frenchies are tryingto get their guns pointed low enough to sink me! The soldiers havebeen having their turn for a bit; it's time we had one now. We'vehad nothing to amuse us since those pretty fireworks the Frenchieswere kind enough to get up for us the other week! Oh that theyshould think to scare us with such toys as that! Oh my, what foolssome men can be!"

With Wolfe resolution was speedily followed by action. No soonerhad he made up his mind what he meant to do than preparations wereinstantly set on foot. He came down in person to inspect the fleet, and discuss with the Admirals what ships should be chosen for theservice. Finally, the Sutherland was selected as the ship to runthe gauntlet, on account of her sailing capacities and theexcellence of her sailing master and crew. A frigate was toaccompany her, and several smaller vessels, one of which, to hisgreat satisfaction, was Killick's; and he was permitted to lead theway, as his shrewdness and skill in nautical matters were wellknown throughout the fleet. 

Colonel Carleton, a promising and experienced officer, was incharge of the troops. But Wolfe himself could not be far away. Hewas to watch everything from Point Levi, and in the event ofsuccess to superintend the passage overland of the flotilla ofboats; and in one of these he purposed himself to join theexpedition in the upper river, and make a careful survey of thedefences there. 

Dearly would he have liked to make one of the daring party who wereto run the gauntlet of the French batteries, but he knew hisresponsibilities as General of the forces too well to exposehimself rashly where he could not take the lead. He must trust tothe sailors for this thing; his turn would come later. 

All was in readiness. The selected vessels were lying at anchor, ready to loose from their moorings when the sun had sunk. Wolfe inhis light boat, managed by Humphrey and Fritz, had made a tour ofinspection, and was now speeding across the water towards PointLevi, up the heights of which several additional powerful guns hadbeen carried earlier in the day to assist in the cannonade plannedfor the night. 

Little was spoken by the General or his subordinates. Wolfe hadbeen suffering much during the past days from acute rheumatism, andfrom the inward malady which gave him little rest night or day. Hisface looked very thin and drawn, but the fire in his eyes wasunquenchable, and it was plain that his mind was not with himself, but with the enterprise, carefully thought out and courageouslyplanned, which was to be attempted that night. 

"Take me as near to the town batteries as is safe, " he said; andthe boat's head was directed towards the northern shore. 

"I believe it will be done, " he said, after a keen inspection ofthe batteries through his glass. "The guns are almost all pointedtowards Point Levi. If the ships make good way with wind and tide, as they should, they will glide so fast along that, even ifsighted, they will almost have passed before the guns can bedepressed sufficiently to be dangerous. "

Then they made for Point Levi, and Wolfe stepped ashore, to bereceived by Moncton, who escorted him to the batteries to see theirpreparations. The three friends, released from attendance upon him, took up a position from which they could command a view of whatpassed, in so far as the darkness of night should permit them anyview. A pall of cloud hung in the sky, and the shades of eveningfell early. Yet it seemed long to the anxious watchers before thedarkness blotted out the view of the distant city, and of thepanorama of dancing water beneath. 

Generally the guns from Point Levi boomed all day, but were silentat night, leaving the camp to repose. But though they had ceased tofire at sundown, darkness had no sooner fallen than the iron mouthsopened in a prolonged and terrific roar, a blaze of yellow lightglowed along the batteries, and the watchers from the strand heardthe huge shells screaming overhead as they hurtled through the air, carrying with them their terrible messages of death anddestruction. 

The noise was terrific; the sight was terrible in its fiercegrandeur. The three companions had seen many strange and fearfulthings during the past years, but perhaps they had never beforebeen quite so near to a battery spouting out its leaden rain ingreat broad flashes of lambent flame. 

Julian and Fritz could not turn their eyes from the magnificentsight; but Humphrey, after one glance, turned his upon the darkwaterway, and it was his voice that spoke at last in accents ofkeen emotion. 

"Here come the ships. "

The others could not see for a while--their eyes were dazzled; andin the roar and rattle of artillery overhead nothing could be heardof the silent advance of those darkened hulls as they slipped likeghosts through the water. They were as close to the south bank asit was safe to keep, and followed Killick's sloop with as muchprecision as possible. The strong tide beneath them, and the light, favouring wind, bore them past at a rate that the spectators hadscarcely expected. They could just descry the dark, looming objectsgliding swiftly and silently along. But would the gunners in Quebecsee them? The onlookers held their breath as the phantom shipssailed upon their way. They were passing the blazing batteries now, and the cannonade was more furious than ever. The guns of Quebecwere blazing back. But was the fire directed only at the oppositeheights? or had the flitting sails been seen, and would the ironrain pour upon the gallant vessels making the daring passage?

Fritz felt such an oppression upon his heart that he could scarcedraw his breath; but moments came and moments went, and the shipsglided unharmed upon their way. They had all passed the batteriesnow. They were in the very narrowest part of the channel, justwhere the town batteries commanded the passage. Humphrey couldstand it no longer. 

"To the boat, " he cried, "to the boat! yonder she lies! Let usfollow and make sure, and bring the General word!"

In a moment the three had rushed down, and were running their boatinto the water. Next minute the sail was up, and the light littlecraft was cutting through the black river at a gallant pace. Nowshe had caught up the last of the silent string of daring cruisers;now she was gliding by the large warship. All was safe, all wassilent on the water; only overhead the hurtling bombs and ballsroared and boomed. The gunners of Quebec had not sighted thestealthy ships. The town knew nothing of what was being done undercover of that furious cannonade. And now the batteries had beensafely passed; the lights of the town upon the right were beginningto fade in the distance. 

A sudden rift in the clouds let through a glancing beam ofmoonlight, which fell full upon the figure of old Killick as hestood upon the forecastle of his vessel, preparing to let down theanchor as arranged when a safe place had been found. The oldsea-dog had convoyed the party as cleverly as he had navigated thedangerous channel of the Traverse. He pulled out his batteredsou'wester and waved it in the direction of Quebec. 

"Bless you, my dears! how well you do sleep! You ought to be soundand hearty, I'm sure. Good luck to you, every man of you at theguns! Bless my soul! if I were the Markiss of Montcalm, when Iawoke in the morning to see the English ships in the basin abovethe town, I'd hang every mother's son of them each to his own gun!But poor fellows, it would be hard to blame them. They can't helpbeing born Frenchmen and fools after all!"

A laugh and a cheer from those who heard greeted old Killick'ssally; and Humphrey, quickly turning round the prow of the boat, sent her speeding back to Point Levi, to bring certain tidings ofthe success to Wolfe. 

Chapter 2: Days Of Waiting. 

"I am sorry that you should have to be disturbed, dear ladies, butit is no longer safe for you to remain where you were. My soldiersrequire the ground. But tomorrow you shall be sent in safety toQuebec, under a flag of truce. You will be safer there than atPointe-aux-Trembles, now that my ships are in the upper river. "

Wolfe spoke thus at the conclusion of a supper party, which he hadhastily got up for the benefit of the prisoners brought to PointLevi by his fleet of boats. The soldiers had landed along the upperriver, and in spite of a faint resistance from Indians andCanadians, had effected a landing. Though they had not found muchin the way of stores or cattle, they had taken what they could, andhad brought a number of prisoners to Wolfe's camp. These weremostly French--a great number being women and children and old menwho had left Quebec during the bombardment, and sought refuge inthe outlying village. 

The idea of being sent back to town was not exactly palatable, butit was plain that there was now no safety along the upper river;the English troops seemed to be everywhere at once. 

"You are such dreadful people, you English!" sighed one lady, looking, not without admiration, towards the youthful General, whowas entertaining them at his own table, and who had given thestrictest orders that the humbler of the prisoners should beequally well treated elsewhere: "you seem to fly from point topoint, to divide your army as you will, and conquer wherever youappear. It is wonderful, but it is terrible, too! And yet with allthis, how are you to get into Quebec? For it seems to me you are nonearer that than you were a month ago. "

Wolfe smiled his slight, peculiar smile. 

"Madame, " he answered, "we have a proverb in En gland which saysthat 'where there's a will there's a way. ' I have been sent out bythe government of my country to take Quebec, and here I stay till Ihave carried out that order. How and when it will be accomplished Ido not yet know; what I say is that I am here to do it, and that Imean to do it. When you return to the city, present my respects tothe Marquis of Montcalm, and tell him what I say. "

The ladies looked at one another, and lifted eyes and hands. In theaspect of the young General, despite his physical feebleness, therewas an air of such calm, confident power that they were deeplyimpressed; and one of them, looking earnestly at him, cried:

"You make us admire you as much as we fear you, Monsieur Wolfe. Butif you are to have Quebec, pray take it quickly; for this long, cruel war wears us out. "

"Madame, " he answered, "I would that I could; but Monsieur deMontcalm gives me no chance of fighting. If he were not socautious, I should greatly rejoice. I give him all sorts of chancesto attack me, but he will not avail himself of them. If cautioncould save Quebec, assuredly it would never fall!"

"If he take not care, his caution will be his undoing, " said aCanadian dame of sprightly turn. "As for us of the country, we areweary to death of uncertainty. They tell me that the Canadianmilitia will not long remain loyal if kept in such inactivity. WeCanadians do not understand this sort of warfare. Quick raids, sharp fighting, quick return home is what our men are used to. Theycan be brave enough in their native forests; but this sitting downin camps for weeks and months together, whilst their harvests arelying uncut in the fields, or left a prey to Indian marauders--no, that they do not understand or appreciate. They are almost ready towelcome English rule sooner than go on like this. I doubt not youhave heard as much from your prisoners before. "

"Something like it, " answered Wolfe, with a slight curl of the lip. "I confess I have no great opinion of the militia of Monsieur deMontcalm. His regular troops are fine soldiers; but for the rest, they would give us little trouble, I take it. Perhaps the Marquisknows that, and therefore will not fight. "

"In the woods one Canadian soldier is worth three regulars, "remarked the lady, with a shrewd glance at Wolfe, and a smile uponher face; "but in the open one regular is worth half a dozenCanadians. We do not understand standing firm under fire. Give us atree to run behind, and we will be as valiant as you wish, andshoot down our foes with unerring aim; but we must have cover. Wehave been used to it, and we do not understand being without it. Iam sure I well understand the feeling. I should make a good enoughCanadian militiaman, but I should never have the nerve to be aregular soldier. "

Wolfe smiled and made a little bow to his guests. 

"I believe, Mesdames, that ladies have a higher courage than menwhen the hour of peril really comes. I had the honour to becomeacquainted with Madame Drucour at the siege of Louisbourg. I wastold, and can well believe, that it was in great part her heroicexample which inspired the men there to that courage which theyshowed, and which gave us such hard work. Courage is by no meansthe prerogative of the soldier or of man. The women of the worldhave again and again set the loftiest examples of it to those whocome after. "

The ladies returned his bow, and drank to his health before theyretired to their tents for the night. 

"If we see you within Quebec, Monsieur Wolfe, we shall know howgenerous a victor we have to deal with. Madame Drucour has told usthe same; but now we have seen it with our own eyes. "

"Pray give my best compliments to Madame Drucour, " said Wolfeearnestly, "and tell her that not the least pleasant element in theanticipation of getting into Quebec is the thought that in so doingI shall have the honour and pleasure of renewing acquaintance withher. "

Wolfe was on the strand upon the following morning to see hiscaptives safely off to Quebec, whilst a flag of truce was hoisted, and the batteries ceased to fire. 

"Farewell, my dear ladies; I hope soon to meet you all again, " saidthe young General, with playful geniality, as he handed them totheir seats. "If Monsieur de Montcalm will but give me the chanceof coming to conclusions with him, I will do my utmost to bringthis uncomfortable state of affairs to a close. "

"Ah, Monsieur, you are very complaisant! but the only way that youwant to take is the capture of our poor city. "

"Very true, dear ladies; that is the only end I am willing tocontemplate. And yet, believe me, in desiring this I desire nothingthat shall be for your final discomfiture. I know what the rule ofFrance is in these parts, and what that of England is also. Believeme that beneath English government peace and prosperity such as shehas never known before will come to Canada. I believe that the daywill speedily come when you will see this for yourselves. "

"I should not wonder, " answered the Canadian dame, with a lightlaugh; "I am half disposed to think the same myself. His Majesty ofFrance has not endeared himself to us these many years past. Ishould not be broken hearted to see a change of monarch. "

The boats pushed off, and Wolfe stood watching them on their wayacross the river. His face was grave and thoughtful, and he turnedpresently to Fritz with a sigh. 

"Poor ladies! I am sorry to send them back to the horrors of thesiege; but it is the only safe place for them. 

"And now we must think seriously of our next step. The time isflying, and we must not let the grass grow under our feet. It istrue what they said last night: we are no nearer taking Quebec thanwhen we sailed from England months ago. We have frightened andharassed the foe, but we are not one step nearer the goal. "

"And yet we have one ship and several smaller vessels in the upperriver, " said Julian; "and where one ship has passed others may doso. "

"Yes; I shall try to bring up other vessels. One never knows whatthe chances of war will be. It is well to have the command of theriver both above and below; and if Amherst should form a junctionwith us, we may find the fleet above the town of great use. But weare now at the end of July, and Ticonderoga, though threatened, hasnot yet fallen, so far as we know; and even were it to do soquickly, there will be much for Amherst to do there and at CrownPoint, and a long, long march before he could reach us. We mustface the possibility of having to accomplish this matter with theforces now at command; and we are in the position now that our campis split up into four, and we have no great muster of troops at anyone point. If Montcalm were to make a determined dash at any one ofour camps, he could destroy it before the rest of the army could bemustered for its defence. Why he does not avail himself of thechances given him I do not know. But his policy of inaction has itsdrawbacks too for us, since I would sooner face him in a pitchedbattle than be kept here inactive, waiting upon chances that neveroffer. "

The army was certainly getting rather weary of this inaction. Itwas not idle, for Wolfe's manifesto to the Canadians was now beingenforced. Supplies were wanted for the troops, and the inimicalCanadians were forced to supply them. Indeed, great numbers ofthese harassed and undecided inhabitants of the disputed territorywere glad enough to be made prisoners by the English and sent onboard their transports for safety. Their cattle, of course, fell aprey to the invaders; but they were in so much peril of robberyfrom the Indians that this was a small matter. When once withinWolfe's camp their lives were safe, and no ill treatment waspermitted; and to some of the wretched Canadians this had become aboon. It was small wonder they were growing sick and weary of thewar, and would have welcomed either nation as conqueror, so thatthey could only know again the blessings of peace and safety. 

Yet something more definite must be attempted; Wolfe was more andmore determined upon that. It was difficult to know how best toattack an enemy so strongly intrenched and so well able to repulseattack; yet his men were burning with ardour, and his own spiritwas hot within him. He sometimes felt as though his feeble bodywould not much longer be able to endure the strain put upon it. Thecracked pitcher may go once too often to the well. To die in theservice of his country was what Wolfe desired and expected forhimself; but he wished that death might come to him in the din andexcitement of the battle, and in the hour of victory; not by thehand of disease, whilst his aim and object was yet unaccomplished. 

"We must fight!" he said to Julian, as he took his way back to hiscamp at the Montmorency; "we must seek to bring the enemy to closequarters. We shall fight at terrible disadvantage, I well know; weshall suffer heavy loss. But I would back a hundred of our bravefellows against a battalion of Canadian militia. We must tryconclusions with them somehow, and by a concerted attack, both fromMontmorency and from the strand, seek to effect something, even ifit be only to affright and dishearten them. "

The soldiers were ready and eager to be allowed a fling at the foe. They were full of ardour and enthusiasm, for so far every attemptmade had been vigorously and successfully carried out, and theybegan to have an idea that Wolfe could not be frustrated in anyscheme of his. 

To attack the city itself was obviously impossible under presentconditions, They could never get a footing near those solid wallsand ramparts. But the camp along the Beauport shore was morevulnerable. If they could effect a landing there, they might rushone or more of the batteries, and bring about a general engagement. It was impossible, as it happened, for Wolfe to estimate the fullstrength of the French position; but he knew that the task would beno light one, even though he could not see that there werebatteries upon the heights above. 

It was near to the Montmorency that he designed to make the attack. The shores of the river were, for the most part, very steep here;but at one place there was at low water a strand of muddy groundabout half a mile wide, protected at the edge by a French redoubt. From there the ground rose steep and slippery to the higher landabove. If the men could land and take the redoubt, Wolfe had hopesof bringing men over by the Montmorency ford--the one above thecataract--and effecting a junction there, and by combining theactions of these two detachments, succeed in dislodging a portionof the French army, and effecting a firm foothold upon the northbank of the St. Lawrence. 

It was a rather desperate scheme; but it was received withenthusiasm by the soldiers and sailors, both of whom would beneeded for the attempt. The vessels and boats for the transport ofthe men were quickly made ready, whilst others were told off tohover about the basin in order to perplex the French, and keep themignorant of the real point of attack. 

Wolfe himself took up his position in the battleship Centurion, which anchored near to the Montmorency, and opened fire upon theredoubts just beyond the strand. Julian was with him, watchingintently, and noting every movement made by enemy or friend. ButFritz and< Humphrey could not be denied their share in the fight. They were upon an armed transport that was standing in shore tofurther harass and batter the redoubt, and to be left stranded bythe ebb tide, as near to her as might be. 

It was at low water that the attack must be made. Boats from PointLevi were hovering around the strand all the afternoon, sometimesmaking for one point, sometimes for another, keeping the Frenchalways on the alert, uncertain and wondering. But Montcalm was tooacute a general to be long deceived. He saw where the real attackmust be made, and there he concentrated his chief force. Had Wolfebeen able to see how his batteries could sweep with a crossfire thewhole of the steep ascent from the redoubt to the heights above, where the men from the Montmorency camp might be able to join withthem, he might have withheld his men from the bold attack. And yetEnglish soldiers have won the victory even against such odds asthese!

He stood in a commanding place upon the ship, and his eyesanxiously scanned the scene. The hot sun had gone in now beneathbanks of heavy cloud. A few splashes of rain seemed to herald anapproaching storm; there was a rumble as of thunder away to theright. 

The tide was out; the bank of mud lay bare. Wolfe gave a long lookround him and waved his hand. 

It was the signal waited for. The moment after, the Centurion'sguns opened their iron mouths, and a storm of shot rattled aroundthe redoubt. The batteries from the Montmorency blazed forth, andso did the more distant ones from Point Levi. The fire of all threewas concentrated upon the redoubts and batteries and forces at thisportion of the Beauport camp; and the French gave answer back fromtheir well-placed batteries. 

Under cover of this heavy fire the boats rowed to shore, and themen in waiting upon the stranded transports leaped out and joinedtheir comrades. The grenadiers were the first to land; and thoughMoncton's brigade and Fraser's Highlanders were close behind, theeagerness of the men could not be restrained. They did not wait fortheir companions; they did not even wait to form up in very orderlyfashion themselves. They made a gallant dash upon the redoubt, andso strong was the onrush that the French, after a very briefresistance, fled; and with a shout and cheer of triumph the Englishgained their prize. 

Julian, standing beside Wolfe on the vessel, could not refrain froma shout of triumph; but the face of the General was grave andstern. 

"They are wrong--they are wrong!" he said; "they are too impetuous. Their rash gallantry will cost them dear. See, they are not evenwaiting now for their companions to join them; they are trying torush the heights alone! Folly--madness! They will lose everythingby such rashness! There! did I not say so?"

At that moment the batteries on the brink of the height openedtheir murderous crossfire. The men were mown down like grass beforethe scythe; but so full were they of fury and desire of victorythat they heeded nothing, and pressed onward and upward, as thoughresolved to carry everything before them. 

Had they been able to see the heights above, they would have notedthat across the ford above the Montmorency a compact body of menwas passing in perfect order, to fall upon the French from behind, and effect a junction with them. But at that moment, whilst thefortunes of the day seemed hanging in the balance, the veryfloodgates of heaven seemed to open, and a deluge of raindescended, whilst the blackness of a terrific thunderstorm fellupon the combatants. 

The slippery grass no longer gave foothold, and the men rolled downthe steep heights--dead, wounded, and unhurt in one medley. Theammunition grew soaked, and the guns refused their task. The glareof the lightning lit up a scene of utter confusion. 

Wolfe saw all, standing with grave face and stern, watchful eyes. At last he spoke. 

"Sound the retreat, " he said, and then bit his lip; and Julian, bya glance into his face, knew what it had cost him to speak thosewords. 

The retreat was made in good order, and was distinguished by a fewacts of personal gallantry; for the Indians swooped down, as theyalways did when they saw their chance, to scalp the wounded and thedead. Soldiers risked their lives to save their fallen comradesfrom this fate, dragging the wounded with them, at risk of theirown lives. The guns of the captured redoubt did some service inbeating off the savages; and the boats were launched once more, though their load was a far lighter one than when they had broughtup their eager crews an hour before. The strand and the heightabove were covered with the dead who had paid for their rashgallantry with their lives. It was a scene upon which Wolfe's eyesdwelt with sadness and pain, as he ordered a boat to be got readyfor him, that he might address the men on their return to quarters. 

It was with stern words that Wolfe met his soldiers. He was not aman to condone a lack of discipline because it had been coupledwith personal bravery. 

"Do you grenadiers suppose that you can beat the Frenchsingle-handed?" he asked, eying the thinned ranks with sterndispleasure in his eyes. "Such impetuous, irregular, andunsoldierlike proceedings as those witnessed today destroy allorder, and make it impossible for a commander to form anydisposition for an attack, and put it out of the General's power toexecute his plans. The death of those five hundred brave men wholie on the strand yonder is due, in the main, to your rashness andinsubordination. "

The men were shamefaced and contrite. They recognized their error, and were the more grieved inasmuch as they saw how the check hadaffected their brave young General. They heard, too, that theFrench were full of triumphant rejoicings; that they declared thisrepulse to be the end of the English attempt upon Quebec. Theylooked upon the game as already in their hands; and although theEnglish were fond of declaring that but for the storm they wouldyet have won the heights, and with the aid of their othercontingent have routed the French gunners and got a footing there, they knew that, as facts were now, they had rather suffered thanbenefited by the action, for it had put fresh hope into the heartsof their foes; and it was possible that the disappointment hadsomething to do with the access of violent illness and sufferingwhich at this juncture prostrated their General. 

Wolfe was indeed dangerously ill. He had long been putting thestrongest pressure upon himself, and Julian had been struck uponthe day of the assault with the look of suffering upon his wornface. He kept up during the next few days, but looked so ghastlythat his friends were deeply concerned; and Julian, together withFritz and Humphrey, scoured the neighbourhood in order to find aplace of greater comfort where their commander could lie. Presentlythey came upon a little farmhouse near to the camp at Montmorency, sheltered from the wind, and pleasantly situated. It had beendeserted by its occupants, who had, however, left behind furnitureenough to enable them to get one room at least fit for thehabitation of the sufferer. And none too soon. 

That very day Wolfe, after trying to make a survey of the lines, was found in his tent half fainting with pain. He looked up atJulian with heavy eyes, and stretching out his hand to him, hesaid:

"I fear me I shall never live to enter Quebec. I have fought till Ican fight no more. Take me somewhere that I can rest. I can do nomore--yet. "

They took him to the little farmhouse, and laid him upon the bedthey had prepared. The doctors came, and looked grave; for thefever was high, the suffering keen, and the wasted frame seemedlittle able to withstand the ravages of disease. Yet never a murmurpassed his lips; and when there came intervals of comparative ease, he would ask of those about him how affairs without wereproceeding, giving orders from time to time with all his old acumenand force, and never forgetting to inquire for the wounded who hadbeen brought off from the ill-starred assault, and had been giventhe best quarters which the camp afforded. He had never any pityfor himself, but always plenty to spare for others. 

Great gloom hung over the camp. Not only were the soldiersdepressed by their repulse, and by the apparent impossibility ofgetting into the city, but they were in fear and trembling lestthey should also lose their brave General. 

"If Wolfe goes, hope goes, " was a common saying in the camp. Theyseemed to know by intuition that with him would expire all hope ofachieving an almost impossible victory. 

Fritz and Julian nursed the sick man; and never were nurses moreskilful and tender. Humphrey constituted himself messenger andforager, bringing everything he could get that the invalid waslikely to need, and keeping them informed of everything that wenton at the different camps. 

Other vessels had passed the guns of Quebec. Scouts from theinterior reported disaffection toward the French cause all throughCanada. English soldiers were carrying the terror of the Britisharms through large tracts of country. The French were becominganxious and dispirited. 

So much they learned during those days of waiting; but they couldrejoice but little whilst Wolfe lay low, racked with pain which nomedicine could alleviate, and in danger of sinking through thewearing exhaustion which followed. 

"How will it end? how will it end?" spoke Fritz to himself one daylate in August, as he stepped outside the house to obtain a breathof air. The next moment he gave a great start, and held out hishands in a gesture of amazement, "What--who--how--is it a ghost I see?"

A hearty laugh was the answer, and his hands were gripped in aclasp that was very certainly one of flesh and blood, to saynothing of bone and muscle. 

"Ghost indeed! Nay, Fritz, you know better than that! It is JohnStark himself, come to fulfil his promise, and to bring to GeneralWolfe the news that Ticonderoga has fallen!"

Chapter 3: A Daring Design. 

Ticonderoga fallen! The news was like new wine in the veins ofWolfe. Ill as he was, he insisted that Stark should be brought tohis bedside, and he eagerly entreated the bold Ranger to tell himthe whole story. 

"There is not so much to tell as there might be, " said Stark, "forthe French made no fight, either at Ticonderoga or at Crown Point. We came with a gallant array against their fortresses, only to findthat the enemy had evacuated them. They tried to blow upTiconderoga before they left; but only one bastion was destroyed. Crown Point was deserted without a blow being struck. I waited forthat, and then made good my word. I said I would be the first totake the news of the fall of Ticonderoga to General Wolfe atQuebec. "

Wolfe's eyes were shining with excitement. 

"Then is General Amherst on his way here with his army?" he askedeagerly. 

Stark shook his head. 

"Alas, no! there is still much work to be done. If the French haveabandoned these two forts, it is only that they may concentrate alltheir strength at Isle-aux-Noix, where the General must now attackthem. And to do this he must build a brigantine and other vessels;and though there is a sawmill at Ticonderoga, the work will stilltake somewhat long to accomplish. I fear that many weeks willelapse before he can advance; and meantime--"

He paused, for he scarce knew how to conclude the sentence. He hadheard as he passed through the camp towards Wolfe's quarters thatthe outlook was not altogether a bright one, despite the fact thatsuccess had crowned many of the enterprises hitherto undertaken. 

Wolfe took up the unfinished sentence and spoke. 

"Meantime the winter gales will be threatening us, and if the wallsof Quebec still shut us out, we may be forced to sail to Englandwith our task yet uncompleted, or to take up our winter quarters inone of the islands, and wait for better things next spring. Wasthat the thought in your mind, John Stark?"

"In truth, sir, as I came along and surveyed the position of thenotable city of Quebec, it seemed to me that it would be a hardtask to bring it to surrender; but then we all know that GeneralWolfe can accomplish the impossible if any man can. "

A slight smile crossed Wolfe's worn face. 

"I look like a man to perform the impossible, don't I, good Stark?"he said; and the Ranger's eyes filled with pitiful sympathy as hemade answer:

"Indeed, sir, I grieve to find you so; and yet men say that Wolfesick is better than half a dozen other generals in full health andstrength. Believe me, we have faith in you, and believe that youwill win the day even single handed, though all the world shouldlook on in scornful amaze, and say that you had set yourself theimpossible. "

Wolfe's eyes flashed. A flush rose for a moment in his pale cheek. Julian saw that such words as these moved him and braced his spiritlike a tonic. He was half afraid lest it should be too muchexcitement, and he signed to Fritz to take Stark away. 

"But I will see him again anon, " said Wolfe; "I must hear more ofthese things. Let him be fed and well looked to, and presently Iwill ask him to come to me again. "

And when the two had left him, Wolfe turned to Julian and said:

"I see now that I have nothing to hope for in a junction withAmherst. He will have his hands full till the close of the season. If Quebec is to be taken, we must take it ourselves, unaided fromwithout. I think I would rather die out here, and leave thiscarcass of mine in a Canadian grave, than return to England withthe news that Quebec still holds out against the English flag!"

"Nay, say not so, " answered Julian earnestly, "for the greatestgeneral may be baffled at some point. And think of yourmother--and--Miss Lowther!"

A softer look came into Wolfe's eyes. Upon his lips there hovered aslight, strange smile. Instinctively his hand sought for somethingbeneath his pillow. Julian well knew what it was: a case containingminiature portraits of the two beings he loved best in theworld--his mother, and the fair girl who had promised to become hiswife. 

He did not open it, but he held it in his hand, and spoke with adreamy softness of intonation. 

"There be times when I think that men of war should have no mothersor sisters or lovers, " he said. "We leave so sad a heritage behindfor them so oft. And we are not worth the sacred tears that theyshed over us when we fall. "

"And yet I think they would scarce be without those sacred memoriesto cherish, " answered Julian, thinking of Mrs. Wolfe's idolizationof her son, and of Kate Lowther's bright eyes, overflowing withloving admiration. "But why speak you so, as though you would seethem no more? Your health is slowly mending now, and you have beenthrough perils and dangers before now, and have come safe out ofthem. "

"That is true, " answered Wolfe thoughtfully; "and yet a voice in myheart seems to tell me that I shall see those loved faces no more. It may be but the fantasy of a troubled and fevered brain; but indreams I have seen them, tears in their eyes, weeping for oneunworthy of such grief, who lies in a far-off grave beneath thefrowning battlements of yon great city. I wonder ofttimes whetherwe are given to know something of that which is about to befall;for in my heart a voice has spoken, and that voice has said thatQuebec shall be ours, but that these eyes shall never see what lieswithin the ramparts, for they will be sealed in death before thathour shall arrive. "

Julian had no reply ready; he knew not what to say. It did indeedseem little likely that that frail form could survive the perilsand hardships of this great siege, should it be prosecuted to theend, and should some daring assault be successfully made againstthe impregnable city. 

From the day upon which Stark arrived in the camp at Montmorency withthe news from Ticonderoga Wolfe began to mend. It seemed as thoughthe certainty that the English arms were prevailing in the west, though no help could be looked for this season from Amherst, combinedto put a sort of new vigour and resolution into the heart of thedauntless young General. If anything were to be accomplished, hemust now do it by his own unaided efforts; and since August waswell nigh past, if he were to act at all it must be soon, or thewinter storms might come sweeping down, and render his positionuntenable. 

He had had plenty of time whilst lying helpless in bed to think outvarious plans of attack upon the city. Each one seemed desperateand hopeless, whether, as before, the assault were made by means ofboats along the Beauport shore, or by crossing the upper ford aboveMontmorency and fetching a compass behind the French position, orby storming the lower town, now almost in ruins, for it wascommanded by the batteries in the citadel and upper town. In fact, the French position was so strong everywhere that it was difficultto see how any enterprise could possibly prove successful. 

In his hours of comparative ease Wolfe had thought out, and Julianhad written out at his dictation, a sketch of one or twoalternative plans for attack, which he sent in the form of a letterto the Brigadiers commanding the various detachments of the army, asking them to take counsel together over them, and to meet at thefarmhouse as soon as he was well enough to see them, and let themdiscuss the matter together. All Wolfe's projects were for attackfrom the lower river; for lying ill and helpless as he was, he hadhardly realized what had been going steadily on ever since thatfirst successful attempt to get shipping past the town guns andinto the upper reach of the St. Lawrence. Every time there was asuitable night, with a favouring wind, vessels had run the gauntletof the batteries, always covered by a heavy fire from Point Levi;and now quite a fleet of warships, frigates, and transports lay inthe reach above the town, whilst Montcalm had had to weaken hiscamp at Beauport to watch the heights there. For though these weresteep and rugged and inaccessible, it would not do to leave themunguarded. 

When the Brigadiers met in the old farmhouse, Wolfe was up anddressed for almost the first time, looking gaunt and haggard, hisface lined with pain and care, but full of calm and steadfastpurpose, and with a mind as clear as ever. He was touched by thewarm greetings of his officers, and by their tales as to theenthusiastic delight in the ranks at the news that their Generalwas better. 

The army was animated by a spirit of great courage and confidence. The news from Ticonderoga had done good. This had been followed bytidings of the capture of the Niagara fort. Even though Amherstcould not coalesce with them, they were feeling that English armswere everywhere invincible, and that even Quebec would not longstand against them. It would be the greater glory to vanquish itsingle-handed; and had they not Wolfe to lead them?

Wolfe could not but smile as he heard this, and then the discussionbegan. The Brigadiers had read his alternative proposals; but theyhad another to lay before him which they thought more likely ofsuccess. This was to make the real attack above the town, transporting men and munitions by means of their ships now lying inthe upper reach, and seeking to obtain a footing upon the heights, from whence they might bombard the upper city, or even carry it byan impetuous assault. 

"We can make a feint of attacking at Beauport, to keep the Marquisupon the alert there, and his troops from being detached to thedefence of the heights. But let our real assault be on that side, "advised Moncton, whose position at Point Levi gave him considerableknowledge of affairs upon the upper river. "It is true that theheights are watched and guarded, but the force there is not large. They trust to the nature of the ground, which is inhospitable tothe last degree, to hinder any attempt at landing. And our vesselsin the river below are leading poor Bougainville a fine dance upand down the banks. He has some twenty miles to protect with lessthan two thousand men--so far as we can learn--and Admiral Holmes, who commands the fleet, takes care that he shall have no rest nightor day. The men begin to know the ground; they are full of desirefor the attack. It sounds desperate, we are well aware; but then sodo all the plans. Yet if we are to make one great dash upon Quebecbefore we give up the hope of taking it this season, we mustattempt the apparently impossible!"

Into Wolfe's eyes had sprung the battle light. Desperate it mightbe to scale almost perpendicular cliffs and plant batteries on thetop whilst exposed to the fire of a sleepless enemy there, whocould send for reinforcements by thousands when once aware of thethreatened peril. And yet now that he knew his strength in theupper river, and the wishes of his officers, he hesitated not oneinstant. 

"It shall be tried, " he said, "and it shall be tried quickly. Theissues of life and death, of battle and victory, are in higherhands than ours. It is for us to do our utmost to brave all. We cando no more, but we can do that!"

The meeting broke up. The Brigadiers went back to their respectivestations to announce the decision and to make preparation. Eagerenthusiasm prevailed throughout the ranks of the army, and thequestion in all mouths was, would the General be fit to lead themin person. 

This was Wolfe's own great anxiety. His physician shook his head, but received this characteristic admonition:

"I know perfectly well you cannot cure me; but pray make me up sothat I may be free from unbearable pain for a few days, able to domy duty by my brave soldiers, That is all I ask or want. "

As soon as ever he was able, Wolfe visited the Admirals on theirships and discussed his plan with them. They were all becomingrather anxious at the lateness of the season, and were thinking ofmoving away. But they consented to remain till this attempt shouldbe made; Wolfe, on his part, agreeing that if it failed he mustabandon the hope of reducing Quebec this season, and not expose hissoldiers to the needless hardships of a winter in these inclementlatitudes, As it was, there was a good deal of sickness amongst the men, andthe number of able-bodied soldiers was considerably reduced. Wolfevisited those in hospital, and spoke kind and cheering words tothem. He knew what it was to be laid aside from active service, andhow hard inactivity was when there was work to be done. 

The camp on the Montmorency was broken up first. Wolfe wanted hissoldiers elsewhere, and he thought it no bad move to take thisstep, as the French would probably think it the first move in theevacuation of the whole position. Montcalm, indeed, would havefallen upon them in the rear and inflicted heavy damage, if Monctonat Point Levi had not seen the danger, and sent a number of men inboats to make a feint of attacking Beauport; upon which the troopswere hastily recalled. 

All was activity and secret industry in the English lines, A wholefleet of baggage boats was laden and smuggled past the town gunsinto the upper river; more craft followed, till quite an armamentlay in that wider reach above; and yet the French were notpermitted to have any exact notion as to what was to be done, northat any serious attack was meditated in that direction. 

Wolfe himself was taken up the river in one of the vessels. He wasstill weak and suffering, but he could no longer give any thoughtto his own condition. 

"I can rest when the battle is fought, " he said to Julian, whowould fain have bidden him spare himself more; and it seemed to hisfriend as though there were more in those words than met the ear. 

News was daily brought in of the strength of the French position. Montcalm, very uneasy at the action of the English fleet, sent asmany reinforcements as he could spare to man the heights and gorgesof the upper river. Batteries were planted, and every step taken toguard against the danger of attack. Rain and wind hindered theEnglish from putting their plan into immediate execution, and themen suffered a good deal from close crowding on the transports, andfrom various brushes with the enemy which enlivened the monotony ofthose days of waiting. 

Wolfe's eyes were everywhere. He was in the Admiral's vessel, andalthough sometimes hardly able to drag himself upon deck, he wouldnote with all his old keenness every nook and cranny in theprecipitous shores, every movement of the enemy, every naturaladvantage which could possibly be made use of in his attempt. 

All this time the ships were drifting to and fro with the tide fromthe basin of the upper river, just above Quebec itself, right awayto Cap Rouge, where the French had their headquarters, and werealways ready for an assault. This action on the part of the shipswas a very politic one, for it kept the French troops ceaselesslyupon the march and the watch, wearing them out with fatigue; whilstthe English soldiers on board their vessels were at their ease, save that they were rather uncomfortably crowded. 

The long delay was over at last. The weather had improved; Wolfehad made up his mind as to every detail of the attack; the troopsat Point Levi and on the Isle of Orleans had been instructed as tothe parts they were to play in drawing off the enemy's attentionfrom the real point of attack. 

"I should like to address the men once more, " said Wolfe to Julian, upon a still September morning. "I should like them to take onelast charge from my own lips; perhaps it may be the last I shallever give them!"

For Wolfe seemed to have upon his spirit the presentiment of comingdoom. He looked round upon the eager, expectant faces, and his ownkindled with a loving enthusiasm. He had loved these men, and theyloved him. The sight of his tall, gaunt form and thin, white faceevoked cheer after cheer from soldiers and sailors alike. He had towait till the tumult subsided before he could speak, and then hisvoice rang out clear and trumpet-like as he briefly described tothe listening host the position of affairs and what was expected ofthem. 

"The enemy's force is now divided, great scarcity prevails in theircamp, and universal discontent among the Canadians. Our troopsbelow are in readiness to join us, all the light artillery andtools are embarked at Point Levi, and the troops will land wherethe French seem least to expect it. The first body that gets onshore is to march directly to the enemy and drive them from anylittle post they may occupy; the officers must be careful that thesucceeding bodies do not by any mistake fire on those who go beforethem. The battalions must form on the upper ground with expedition, and be ready to charge whatever presents itself. When the artilleryand troops are landed, a corps will be left to secure the landingplace while the rest march on and endeavour to bring the Canadiansand French to a battle. The officers and men will remember whattheir country expects of them, and what a determined body ofsoldiers, inured to war, is capable of doing against five weakFrench battalions mingled with a disorderly peasantry. "

Cheer after cheer rent the air as these words were heard. Theenthusiasm of the men had suffered no diminution during the days ofwaiting. They loved their General; they respected and admired theirofficers. They were full of eagerness to find themselves at lastface to face with the foe. They knew that upon the issue of thisenterprise hung the whole fate of the long campaign. If they failedin their design, they must return to England with a story offailure so far as Quebec was concerned; and no one would understandthe full difficulties of the situation, or appreciate all the solidwork that had already been accomplished towards the attainment ofthat object. 

Everything that could be done had been done. Admiral Saunders, in theBasin of Quebec, was deceiving Montcalm by preparations whichconvinced that General that the real point of attack was to be alongthe Beauport shore, where he therefore massed his troops in readiness;whilst Admiral Holmes, with his bateaux and flat-bottomed troop boats, was deluding Bougainville with the notion that his camp at Cap Rougewas to be the immediate object of the English assault. But all thewhile Wolfe and a few of his officers--only a few--were in the secretof the real basis of action; though the men knew that all was decidedupon, and that they would be led with consummate skill and address. 

In the grey of the morning, Julian, too excited to sleep, heard thesoft plash of oars alongside the Sutherland, and raising his headto look over the bulwarks, he heard his name pronounced in afamiliar voice. 

"Humphrey, is that you?"

"Yes, " he answered. "I have gleaned some news. I want to impart itto the General. "

Wolfe was lying on deck looking up at the quiet stars overhead, worn out with the long strain, yet free from acute pain, andthankful for the boon. He heard the words, and sat up. 

"Bring him to me, " he ordered; "I will hear his report. "

The next minute Humphrey was on deck and beside him. Humphrey wasoften employed to carry messages from ship to ship. He had builthimself a light, strong canoe; and could shoot through the wateralmost like an Indian. He stood beside Wolfe's couch and told histale. 

"I went up to the French camp as close as possible. I heard therethat some boatloads of provisions were to be sent down tonight uponthe ebb to Montcalm's camp. They have done this before, and will doit again. Later on I came upon two Canadians, seeking to escapefrom the French camp. I took them across to our vessels for safety. They confirmed what I had overheard. Boats laden with provisionwill be passing the French sentries along the coast tonight. If ourboats go down in advance of these, they may do so almostunchallenged. "

Wolfe's eyes brightened before he had heard the last word. Heinstantly perceived the advantage which might accrue to them fromthis piece of information luckily hit upon. He grasped Humphrey'shand in a warm clasp, and said:

"You bring good news, comrade. I think the star of England is aboutto rise upon this land. Go now and rest yourself; but be near to mein the time of struggle. You are a swift and trusty messenger. Itis such as you"--and his eyes sought Julian and Fritz, who wereboth alert and awake--"that I desire to have about me in the hourof final struggle. "

Then, when Humphrey had gone below with Fritz, Wolfe turned toJulian and said, speaking slowly and dreamily:

"There is something I would say to you, my friend. I have a strangefeeling that the close of my life is at hand--that I shall not liveto see the fruit of my toil; though to die in battle--in the hour, if it may be, of victory--has been ever the summit of my hopes andambition. Something tells me that I shall gain the object of myhope tomorrow, or today perchance. I have one charge to give you, Julian, if that thing should come to pass. "

Julian bit his lip; he could not speak. He was aware of thepresentiment which hung upon Wolfe's spirit, but he had foughtagainst it might and main. 

The, soldier placed his hand within the breast of his coat, anddetached and drew out that miniature case containing the likenessof his mother and his betrothed. He opened it once, looked long inthe dim light at both loved faces, and pressed his lips to each inturn. 

"If I should fall, " he said, "give it to Kate; I think she willlike to have it. Tell her I wore it upon my heart till the last. Iwould not have it shattered by shot and shell. Give it her with mydying blessing and love, and tell her that my last prayer will befor her happiness. She must not grieve too much for me, or let herlife be shadowed. I am happy in having known her love. I desirethat happiness shall be her portion in life. Tell her that when yougive her that case. "

He closed it and placed it in Julian's hands, and spoke no more;though throughout that day of preparation and thought a gentlequietude of manner possessed him, and struck all with whom he camein contact. 

Even when at last all was in readiness and the General in one ofthe foremost boats was drifting silently down the dark river, withthe solemn stars overhead, it was not of battles or deeds of daringthat he spoke with those about him. After the silence of deeptension his melodious voice was heard speaking words that fellstrangely on the ears of the officers clustered about him. 

"The curlew tolls the knell of parting day" spoke that voice; andin the deep hush of night the whole of that "Elegy" was softlyrehearsed in a strangely impressive manner, a thrill runningthrough many at the words:

"The paths of glory lead but to the grave. "

When the recitation was over there was a long, deep silence, brokenat last by Wolfe himself, who said:

"Gentlemen, I would rather have written that poem than takeQuebec!"

Chapter 4: In The Hour Of Victory. 

"Qui vive?"

It was the French sentry upon the shore, as the boats glided slowlyby in the darkness. Julian was waiting for the challenge, and wasready with the answer. 

"France!"

"A quel regiment?" came the voice again. 

"De la Reine, " answered Julian, who had not spoken in vain with thedeserting Canadians, and knew a good deal about Bougainville'scamp. Then afraid of being asked the password, he hastily added, still speaking French, "Have a care; the English will hear us! Theprovision boats from the camp!"

That hint was enough. The sentry knew that provision boats wereexpected, and that English vessels were anchored not far off. Helet the fleet of English boats pass by in the darkness. 

The strong current swept them along. Now they had reached theappointed place--passed it, indeed before they could get out of thecurrent; but there was a narrow strand, wide enough fordisembarkation, and the band of picked men who had volunteered forthe task were already out, preparing to scale the lofty heights andsee what lay beyond. 

Up they went in the close darkness of the autumn night, thefour-and-twenty selected men leading the way, closely followed by alarger band of comrades. No word was spoken, no cry was raised. Thetense excitement of the moment seemed to preclude any suchdemonstration. It was believed that at this point there would belittle resistance. There was no sentry on the shore, and noappearance of any camp along the top. It was believed that theFrench officer Vergor, with a small detachment of troops, wassomewhere in the vicinity; but the renown of that worthy was notsuch as to check the ardour of the English troops. 

Wolfe remained below, silent and motionless. His hands were lockedtogether, and his pale face upturned towards the towering heightsabove. The gurgle and plash of the river was in his ears, mingledwith those other sounds--the sounds of scrambling as his soldiersmade their way up the rugged heights in the uncertain light of thewaning stars. It was a moment never to be forgotten in his life. The presentiment of coming death was forgotten--everything wasforgotten but the wild, strong hope of victory; and when from thetop of the gorge there came at last the ring of a British cheer, the sound of brisk musket firing, and then another ringing shout asof triumph, the blood rushed into his white face, and he sprangfrom the boat on to the strand, exclaiming:

"They have won the foothold. Form up, men, and follow. We haveEngland's honour in our keeping this day. Never let her say wefailed her at the moment of greatest need. "

It was a precipitous gorge up the sides of which the men had toclimb. Julian looked anxiously up it and then at Wolfe, and said:

"It is too steep; do not try it. Let me find an easier path for youif I can. "

He smiled as he scanned the sides of the gorge. 

"I doubt if I shall get up, " he answered; "but I mean to try. "

And so strong was the resolution which inspired him that he foundstrength to drag himself up the steep declivity, with only a littleassistance from Julian; and found himself, with the first breakingof the dawn, breathless, giddy, exhausted, upon the summit of thoseHeights of Abraham which today he was to make famous. 

Instantly he took the command of the situation. Cannon were heardopening fire close on the left. It was the battery of Samos firingupon the English boats in the rear, now just visible in thebroadening daylight. 

"Silence that battery!" said Wolfe to an officer whose men werejust forming up. 

Their response was a cheer, as they moved away in orderly array;and when the distant battery of Sillary opened its mouth anduttered its menacing roar, there was another battalion ready tostart off to capture and silence it. Soon the great guns utteredtheir voices no more. The English were masters of the covetedheights, and still their troops continued to land and clamber up tojoin their comrades upon the top. 

The hearts of the soldiers beat high with pride and joy; but theface of Wolfe was inscrutable as he stood surveying the plain whichformed a sort of tableland on the western side of the city ofQuebec. 

The town itself he could not see, though he knew where it lay, andhow beyond it extended the camp of Beauport, from which Montcalmcould march battalion after battalion to meet him in battle. Heknew, too, that behind him lay Bougainville and his thousands, who, by joining in a concentrated action with Montcalm, could hem him inbetween two fires, and cut his gallant little army to pieces. Herealized all this right well, if others did not, and knew thatvictory or death--even annihilation--lay before them. And knowingthis, he made his survey of the place with a concentratedattention, and issued his orders without hesitation or delay. 

The grassy plain was pretty level. Quebec bounded it on the east, the precipices on the St. Lawrence on the south, the declivities tothe basin of the St. Charles on the north. In one place theplain--called the Plains of Abraham, from the old settler who oncemade a home there--was little more than a mile wide. When Wolfereached it, he halted, and after a careful survey said:

"This will be the place to make our stand. Here we will meet ourfoe in battle. Fight they must now; and if heaven will grant us thevictory, let the praise and glory of the day be to God above. If Hethink well to withhold His countenance from us, let us sell ourlives as dearly as may be, and die sword in hand, with our face tothe foe!"

Then the orders were issued. The brigades and battalions weremarshalled into position. The Brigadiers received their orders fromtheir young General, and took up the positions allotted to them. Each of them grasped him by the hand before quitting his side. Toeach one he spoke a word of praise for his gallantry during thetedious campaign, and of thanks for the personal friendship shownto one who felt so unworthy of it, having been so often a care anda trouble instead of a source of strength to those about him. 

Julian stood near, a strange mistiness before his eyes; and asFritz turned away to take up his position at the head of his men, he said in a husky voice to his friend:

"You will stay beside him and guard him from ill. I know not why, but my heart is full of misgiving. Quebec will be dearly won if itlose us the gallant Wolfe!"

"He will not think so, " said Julian. "And his life has been so fullof trouble and pain. I think few know how he has suffered. Perhapsthere is some truth in the old heathen saying, 'Those whom the godslove die young. ' Perhaps it has a better fulfilment andsignificance now that the Light has come into the world, and thatthere is no sting now in death. "

They pressed each other by the hand, and Fritz swung away. It was amoment of deep though suppressed emotion. Both men knew that theymight have looked their last upon the face of the other, and aftermany years of close and brother-like companionship such partingscannot be without their thrill of pain and wonder. 

"Why must these things be?" spoke Julian, beneath his breath. "Whymust men stand up to kill and be killed? How long will it be beforethe reign of the Prince of Peace, when all these things shall bedone away?"

Light showers were scudding over the landscape, sometimes blottingout the view, sometimes illumined by shafts of golden sunlight, which gave a curious glory to the scene. The battle was set inarray. Every disposition which military genius could suggest hadbeen made to avoid surprise or outflanking or any other peril. Puffs of smoke from over the plains denoted the presence ofambushed Indians or Canadians, and skirmishers were scouring hitherand thither to dislodge any parties who approached unpleasantlynear. 

The soldiers were bidden to lie down, to be safer from accident, and to rest themselves in preparation for what was coming. The mainbody of the army was quiet, but to the left, where some woods andhouses gave cover to the enemy, the fire be came galling, and somelight infantry were sent out to make an end of the foes there, totake and burn the houses and scatter the marksmen. 

This was successfully done, and again there was quiet. Wolfe, whoseemed to be everywhere at once, went round the field once again, cheered lustily wherever he appeared; grave, watchful, with the airof a man who knows that the crisis of his life is at hand, and thatupon the issue of the day hang results greater than he can reckonor comprehend. 

It was about ten in the morning before his quick eye saw signs thatthe enemy was at last advancing to take up the gage of battle sogallantly thrown down. Hitherto the French had succeeded inavoiding a pitched encounter with their foe; now they must fight, or have their city hopelessly cut off from the basis of theirsupplies. Wolfe knew that at last the hour had come, and his paleface flushed with a strange exultation as he saw the first whitelines advancing towards him. 

"At last!" he exclaimed--"at last! We have waited many months forthis moment; now that it has come, pray Heaven we may strike a blowfor England's honour which France shall never forget!"

Julian's attention was distracted by the sight of a little knot ofmen coming slowly towards the rear, where the surgeons werestationed to care for the wounded, who were to be carried therewhen possible. 

"It is Fritz!" he exclaimed; "he has been wounded!"

Wolfe uttered an expression of concern, and stepped forward toinquire. It had been the regiment in command of Fritz which hadbeen sent to silence the sharpshooters in the farms and copses. John Stark had gone with him, their former life as Rangers havingwell qualified them for this species of warfare. Fritz was nowbeing led back, white and bloody, one ball having lodged in hisshoulder, and another in his foot. He walked with difficulty, supported by two of his men. 

"I am grieved to see you so!" cried Wolfe, with the ready concernhe showed in any sufferings not his own. 

"It is naught, " answered Fritz, faintly but cheerfully; "I wouldcare no whit but that it will keep me from the fight. 

"I have left John Stark in command, sir, " he added to the General;"the men are perfectly steady when he directs their movements. "

Wolfe nodded. He knew the intrepidity and cool courage of theRanger. There would be no blundering where Stark held the command. 

"Care for your patient well, " said the young General to a surgeonwho came hurrying up at the moment; "Captain Neville is too good asoldier and officer for us to lose. "

Then turning to Humphrey, who was acting in the capacity ofaide-de-camp, he said in a quick undertone:

"If anything should happen to me in the battle, let BrigadierMoncton know that I recommend Captain Neville for promotion. "

Then he turned his attention towards the oncoming tide of battle, knowing that the great crisis for which he had been waiting allthese long months was now upon him. 

The French were forming up along the opposite ridge, which hid thecity from view. Wolfe took in their disposition at a glance, and agrim smile formed itself upon his lips. He saw that though thecentre of the three bodies forming up into order was composedentirely of regular troops, both flanks were regulars intermixedwith Canadians; and for the Canadian militia in the open he had anunbounded contempt. Moreover, he noted that instead of waitinguntil they were in good and compact order, they began almostimmediately to advance, and that without any of the method andprecision so necessary in an attack upon a well-posted andstationary foe. 

He passed along the word of command to his own officers, instructing them how to act, and stood watching with the breathlessintensity of a man who knows that the crisis of a mighty destiny isat hand. 

The moment the French soldiers got within range they commenced tofire; not as one man, in a crashing volley, but wildly, irregularly, excitedly, uttering cries and shouts the while--atrick caught from their Indian allies, who used noise as one oftheir most effective weapons. 

"Bah!" cried Wolfe, with a sudden exclamation of mingled contemptand amusement; "look there! Saw you ever such soldiers as these?"

Those about him looked, and a hoarse laugh broke from them, andseemed to run along the ranks of immovable red-coats drawn up likea wall, and coolly reserving their fire. 

The gust of laughter was called forth by the action of the Canadianrecruits, who, immediately upon discharging their pieces, flungthemselves down upon the ground to reload, throwing theircompanions into the utmost confusion, as it was almost impossibleto continue marching without trampling upon their prostratefigures. 

"I would sooner trust my whole fate to one company of regulars, "exclaimed Wolfe, "than attempt to fight with such soldiers asthese! They are fit only for their native forests; and were I incommand, back they should go there, quick march. "

Yet still the oncoming mass of French approached, the dropping firenever ceasing. Nearer and nearer they came, and now were not fiftypaces distant from the English lines. 

"Crash!"

It was not like a volley of musketry; it was like a cannon shot. The absolute precision with which it was delivered showed theperfect steadiness and nerve of the men. Upon Wolfe's face might beseen a smile of approbation and pride. This was the way Englishsoldiers met the foe; this was the spirit in which victory was won. 

Another crash, almost as accurate as the first, and a few minutesof deafening clattering fire; a pause, in which nothing could beseen but rolling clouds of smoke; and then?

The smoke rolled slowly away, and as the pall lifted, a wild, ringing cheer broke from the English ranks, mingled with the yellof the Highlanders beyond. The ground was covered with dead andwounded; the ranks of the oncoming foe were shattered and broken. The Canadians had turned, and were flying hither and thither, onlycaring to escape the terrible fire, which in open country theycould never stand. In a few more seconds, as soon as the regularssaw that the red-coats were preparing to charge, they too flungdown their muskets and joined the rout. 

"Charge them, men, charge them!"

Wolfe's voice rang like a clarion note over the field. He placedhimself at the head of one of the columns. Julian and Humphrey wereon either side of him. The yell of the Highlanders was in theirears, and the huzzah of the English soldiers, as they dashed uponthe retreating foe. 

Their line had been a little broken here by the fire of the foe, and still from ambushed sharpshooters hidden upon the plain a moreor less deadly fire was kept up. Wolfe led where the danger wasgreatest and the firing most galling and persistent. 

"Dislodge those men!" was the order which had just passed his lips, when Julian noticed that he seemed to pause and stagger for amoment. 

"You are hurt!" he exclaimed anxiously, springing to his side; butWolfe kept steadily on his way, wrapping his handkerchief round hiswrist the while. The blood was welling from it. Julian insistedupon tying the bandage, finding that the wrist was shattered. 

"You are wounded--you will surely go back!" he said anxiously; butWolfe seemed scarcely to hear. 

The next moment he was off again with his men, directing theirmovements with all his accustomed skill and acumen. Once again hestaggered. Julian dashed to his side; but he spoke no word. If hewould but think of himself! But no; his soul was in the battle. Hehad no care save for the issue of the day. 

A sudden volley seemed to open upon them from a little unseen dipin the ground, masked by thick underwood. Julian felt a bullet whizso near to his ear that the skin was grazed and the hair singed. For a moment he was dizzy with the deafening sound. Then a low cryfrom Humphrey reached him. 

"The General! the General!" he said. 

Julian dashed his hand across his eyes and looked. Wolfe wassitting upon the ground. He was still gazing earnestly at thebattle rushing onward, but there had come into his eyes a strangedimness. 

"He is struck--he is wounded!" said Humphrey in a low voice, bending over him. "Help, Julian; we must carry him to the rear. "

Julian half expected resistance on the part of Wolfe; but no wordpassed his lips. They were growing ashy white. 

With a groan of anguish--for he felt as though he knew what wascoming--Julian bent to the task, and the pair conveyed the light, frail form through the melee of the battlefield towards the placewhere the wounded had been carried, and where Fritz still lay. Asurgeon came hastily forward, and seeing who it was, uttered anexclamation of dismay. 

Wolfe opened his dim eyes. He saw Julian's face, but all the restwas blotted out in a haze. 

"Lay me down, " he said faintly; "I want nothing. "

"The surgeons are here, " said Julian anxiously as they put him outof the hot rays of the sun, which was now shining over heights andplains. 

"They can do nothing for me, " said Wolfe, in the same faint, dreamyway; "let them look to those whom they can help. "

A death-like faintness was creeping over him. The surgeon put astimulating draught to his lips; and when a part had beenswallowed, proceeded to make a partial examination of the injuriessustained. But when he had opened the breast of his coat and sawtwo orifices in the neighbourhood of the heart, he shook his head, and laid the wounded man down to rest. 

Julian felt a spasm of pain shoot through his heart, like a thrustfrom a bayonet. 

"Can you do nothing?" he asked in a whisper. 

"Nothing, " was the reply. "He has not an hour to live. "

"To be cut off in the very hour of victory!" exclaimed Humphrey, with a burst of sorrow. "It is too hard--too hard!"

"Yet it is what he desired for himself, " said Julian, in a lowvoice. I think it is what he himself would have chosen. "

"He has suffered more than any of us can well imagine, " said thesurgeon gravely. "We can scarcely grudge to him the rest and peaceof the long, last sleep. "

Humphrey turned away to dash the tears from his eyes. In hissilent, dog-like fashion, he had loved their young General with agreat and ardent love, and it cut him to the heart to see him lyingthere white and pulseless, his life ebbing slowly away, withouthope of a rally. 

A sign from somebody at a little distance attracted his attention. He crossed the open space of ground, and bent over Fritz, who laybandaged and partially helpless amongst the wounded, but with allhis faculties clear. 

"What is it they are saying all around?" he asked anxiously. "Howgoes the battle? how is it with our General?"

"The battle truly is won--or so I believe, " answered Humphrey, in ahusky voice. "God grant that the gallant Wolfe may live to knowthat success has crowned his efforts--that the laurel wreath willbe his, even though it be only laid upon his tomb!"

"Is he then wounded?"

"Mortally, they say. "

A spasm of pain contracted Fritz's face. 

"Then Quebec will be dearly purchased, " he said. "Humphrey, help meto move; I would look upon his face once again!"

Humphrey gave the desired assistance. They were bringing in thewounded, French and English both, to this place of shelter; but thespot where Wolfe lay was regarded as sacred ground. It was stilland quiet there, though in the distance the din of battle sounded, and the sharp rattle of musketry or the booming of artillery couldbe heard at this side and that. 

Fritz limped slowly across the open space, and halted a dozen pacesfrom where Wolfe lay; half supported in the arms of Julian, whoseface was stern with repressed grief. 

The ashen shadow had deepened upon the face of the dying man. Heseemed to be sinking away out of life. The long lashes lay upon thewaxen cheek; the deep repose of the long, last sleep seemed to befalling upon the wasted features. Fritz felt an unaccustomed mistrising before his eyes. He thought he had never before seen anobler countenance. 

The few standing about the wounded General looked from him to thedistant plain, where the battle tide was rolling farther away, andfrom which, from time to time, arose outbursts of sudden sound--thewild screech of the Highlanders, the answering cheer of theEnglish, the spattering, diminishing shots, and now and again asharp volley that told of some more determined struggle in oneplace or another. 

"Look how they run! look, look--they run like sheep!" criedHumphrey, breaking into sudden excitement, as his trained sight, without the aid of glasses, took in the meaning of that confusedmass of men. 

Julian felt a thrill run through the prostrate form he was holding. The eyes he had never thought to look upon again opened wide. Wolferaised his head, and asked, with something of the old ring in hisvoice:

"Who run?"

"The enemy, sir, " eagerly replied those who stood by. "They aremelting away like smoke. They give way everywhere. The day isours!"

The young General half raised himself, as though he would fain haveseen the sight; but his dim eyes took in nothing. 

"Tell Colonel Burton, " he said, speaking with his old decision, "tomarch Webb's regiment down to the St. Charles, and cut off theirretreat from the bridge. "

Humphrey was off almost before the words had left his lips. Hewould be the one to carry the General's last message. Wolfe heardhim go, and smiled. He knew that Humphrey was the trustiest ofmessengers. He looked up into Julian's face. 

"Now lay me down again, " he said faintly. "Farewell, my trustyfriend and comrade. Take my love to those at home; remember my lastmessages. God be thanked; He has given us the victory. I can die inpeace. "

He drew a long sigh, and his eyes closed. A little thrill ranthrough the worn frame. 

Julian laid it down, and reverently covered the peaceful face;whilst a stifled sob went up from those who saw the action. 

James Wolfe had gone to his rest--had died the death of a hero uponthe victorious battlefield. 

Book 7: English Victors. 

Chapter 1: A Panic-Stricken City. 

It had come at last! The long delay and suspense were over. TheEnglish had stormed the Heights of Abraham. Their long red lineshad been seen by terrified citizens, who came rushing into the townat dawn of day. The supposed attack at Beauport had been nothingbut a blind. Whilst Montcalm and Vaudreuil were massing the troopsto repel the enemy here, the real assault had been made behind thecity, and the English foe was almost upon them. 

Colin had dashed out when the first grey of the dawn had stolen inat their windows. There had been no sleep for Quebec that night. The whole city was in a state of tense excitement. Confidently hadthe Generals declared that the enemy were bent upon their owndestruction; that they were about to tempt fate, and would bedriven back with ignominy and loss. 

"Let them come! Let them taste of the welcome we have to offerthem! Let them see what Quebec has to give them when they reach herstrand!"

These words, and many similar to them, were passed from mouth tomouth by the garrison and townsfolk of Quebec. None would admitthat disaster was possible to "the impregnable city;" and yet itsshattered walls and ruined houses, the crowded hospital and thedeserted buildings, all told a terrible tale. The upper town hadsuffered lately almost as severely as the lower had done at thecommencement of the bombardment. It was a problem now where to findsafe shelter for the citizens. Great numbers of them had fled tothe country beyond, or to other Canadian settlements; for not onlywas this terrible bombardment destroying their homes, andinflicting fearful hurt upon those exposed to it, but provisionswere becoming very scarce; and if the English once got foothold onthe west side of the town, they would be able to cut off Quebecfrom her source of supply. 

Colin dashed out for tidings so soon as the dawn crept into thesky; and Madame Drucour and Corinne sat very close together, soabsorbed in listening that they could scarce find words in which toreassure each other. 

They were no longer in the little narrow house where once they haddwelt. That had been shattered at last by some of the heavier gunswhich the enemy had brought to Point Levi, and they had been forcedto abandon it. They were in a house which so far had not beentouched, sheltered as it was behind some of the fortifications. Itbelonged to Surgeon Arnoux, a clever and competent man, who was atpresent with the army of Bourlemaque; but his younger brother, Victor, also a surgeon, was still in the city, and he hadgenerously opened his house to several of the unfortunate citizenswho had been rendered homeless by the bombardment. 

At present the house contained as its residents Madame Drucour, with her brother the Abbe, and Colin and Corinne. The Bishop, Pontbriand, who was dying himself of a mortal disease, but wasstill able to go about amongst the sick and wounded, was anotherinmate, beloved of all. The party was waited on sedulously by anold servant of the Ursulines, Bonnehomme Michel, as she was called, who was the most faithful, hard-working, and devoted of creatures, and displayed the greatest ingenuity in contriving, out of thescantiest of materials, such dishes as should tempt the appetite ofthe sick Bishop, and make the rest forget that they were in abeleaguered city. 

Corinne had learned by this time what the horrors of war were like. Her fair face was both thinner and graver than it had been in pastdays. She had known the terrible experience that leaves its markupon the witnesses: she had been one of more than one company whena bursting shell in their midst had brought death to some amongstthose with whom she was sitting. She had seen men--yes, and womentoo--struck down in the streets by shot or splinters. She hadworked side by side with Madame Drucour amid the sick and wounded, and had seen sights of horror and suffering which had brandedthemselves deeply into her soul. 

She could never again be the careless, laughing Corinne of old; andyet the soldier spirit in her burned stronger and ever more strong. If war was a fearful and terrible thing, it had its glorious sidetoo. She heard, with a strange thrill of mingled pain and pride, ofthe gallant doings of the English troops. She regarded the cautiouspolicy of the French with something like contempt. She and Colinwould sometimes steal down to the margin of the water, and look atthe English vessels which had braved the guns of the town, and wereriding safely at anchor in the upper basin; and would feel a thrillof admiration at the dauntless bravery of the British sailors andsoldiers. After all, if Quebec were to fall to such gallant foes, would she suffer much after the first shock was over?

They had lost their three merry midshipmen. When General Wolfe hadsent over several boatloads of prisoners taken in the unguardedvillages of the upper river, it had been agreed that any Englishprisoners in the town should be given in exchange; and the lads, cheering lustily the while, had been rowed away by the returningboats. 

Colin and Corinne had missed their companionship, but had beenassured of a meeting before so very long. They knew what that hadmeant, yet they could not resent the suggestion. Constantcompanionship with the English middies had intensified theirinterest in the English cause. They did not speak of it much exceptto one another, but in secret they had no fear of the unknown foe. They felt a certain exultation and triumph in the stories they werealways hearing of English prowess and valour. 

And now it was known to all that the crucial moment had come. TheEnglish had made a great coup. They had landed; they had stormedthe heights; they were said to be intrenching themselves andbringing up their guns; and although this was not true at themoment, the very thought struck terror into the hearts of thecitizens and soldiers. 

Unless they could be dislodged from their present commandingposition, the town was lost. That was the word in the mouths ofall. A mounted messenger, followed by others, had been sent flyingto Montcalm and Vaudreuil. It was certain that the General would bequickly on the spot, and surely he and his army together wouldsuffice to drive back or annihilate this audacious intruder!

So said the people; yet none dared to make light of the peril. Madame Drucour's face was very grave as she sat looking out intothe street, her arm about Corinne. It was not even safe for them totry to go out to the hospital that morning--the hospital which hadbeen moved out of the town and erected upon the plain of the St. Charles, out of reach of the enemy's guns. Hitherto the Heights ofAbraham had been like a rampart of defence; now they were alivewith the battalions of the foe. The plain might at any time becomethe scene of a battle or a rout. 

"Here is Colin back!" cried Corinne, suddenly starting to her feet. "Now he will tell us!"

"It is all true!" cried the lad, bursting into the room. "It iswonderful to see them; it is marvellous what they have done. Theymust have scaled the cliffs at almost impossible places; and nowthey are forming up in a splendid way! The whole plateau is alivewith them!"

"The first rays of the sun striking across it were dyed red withthe scarlet uniforms. It was magnificent to see them. I cannot tellwhether they have any guns there. I saw none. But it is not easy toget a good view of the plain; the ridge above the town hides it. "

"But what is our General doing?" asked Madame Drucour, with claspedhands. 

"They say he is coming; they say he is on his way from the Beauportcamp with the whole army at his back. If he has also sent a messagedirecting Bougainville to advance at the same time from Cap Rougeand fall upon the English rear, it might well be that the invaderswould be cut to pieces. But no one here knows what is ordered. Somesay one thing and some another. One thing alone is certain--theMarquis is on his way. "

The Abbe, who had been out to gather news, came back now with muchthe same tale that Colin had to tell. There was no manner of doubtabout it. The English army had, as by magic, appeared upon theHeights of Abraham, and had set themselves in battle array upon thebest piece of ground for their purpose. The sight of the compactred lines filled the French with dismay and fear. If an enemy coulddo this in a single night, what might they not have the power ofachieving?

"We are in God's hands, " said the Abbe to his sister, as theyhastily, and without much appetite, partook of the meal whichBonnehomme Michel spread for them; "but truly I fear me thatdisaster is in store for the arms of France. There seems no reasonwhy we should lack power to drive back the English to their ships;yet I have that within me which speaks of calamity and disaster. Canada has become helpless and corrupt. When that has befallen acountry or a community, it has always fallen. I fear me that thedays of French rule are numbered. I only pray that if the Englishreign here in our stead, they may prove themselves mercifulmasters, and keep their promise not to interfere with the exerciseof the true faith in which the people have been brought up. "

"If the English have pledged their word to that, they will keepit, " answered Madame Drucour; "and if Canada must fall, we mayrejoice that it should fall into hands as merciful as those of ourEnglish rivals. "

"That is true, " said her brother: "they have set us many a nobleexample of clemency and honour. Yet their hands are not altogetherfree from blood guiltiness. There have been acts of violence andcruelty committed even during these past weeks along the shores ofthe river. "

"Yes, " answered Madame Drucour: "houses have been burned andfamilies turned adrift, and much suffering has resulted therefrom. War is ever cruel, and the track of it is marked with fire andblood. Yet we must remember that the persons thus molested had fairwarning given them. They might have remained in safety had theysubmitted to the conditions imposed by General Wolfe. Perhaps theyshowed more spirit by resistance; but they drew down their fateupon themselves. And no woman or child has been hurt; no crueltieshave been inflicted upon prisoners. No Indians have been sufferedto molest them. Would we have been as forbearing--as stern in themaintenance of order and discipline? The only acts of crueltycommitted on the English side have been by Rangers not belonging tothe regular army, and those only upon Indians or those degradedCanadians who go about with them, painted and disguised to resembletheir dusky allies. For my part, I think that men who thus degradethemselves deserve all that they get. "

"It is well to seek to find consolation in time of extremity, " saidthe Abbe, "and I do rejoice very heartily in the knowledge that wehave a merciful foe to deal with. If this city is forced to openher gates to the English, I verily believe that no scenes ofoutrage will disgrace the page of history upon which this day'sdoings shall be recorded. There is help in that thought at least. "

But it was impossible for either Colin or his uncle to remainwithin doors upon such a day. He insisted that Madame Drucour andCorinne should not adventure themselves beyond the city walls, though he did not condemn them to remain within doors. But he, forhis own part, must go forth and see what was befalling without; forthe Abbe, in spite of his vows, was half a soldier at heart, andhad done some fighting in his young life, and knew the sound of theclash of arms. 

He was not going to adventure himself into the battle, or to sufferColin to do so either; that would be useless. Indeed the boy had nodesire to enter the lists against the English, being more than halfon their side as it was, although the infection of the feelings ofthe townspeople rendered it difficult for him exactly to know hisown mind. 

He and Corinne were alike consumed with an overpowering sense ofexcitement. It was the thought of the battle about to be waged thatfilled the minds of both--the imminence of the coming struggle. Asfor the result, that was less a matter of concern to them. Thecrisis was the overwhelming consideration in their minds. 

The Abbe and Colin had gone. The streets were beginning to fillwith excited people. The storm of shot and shell was not fallingupon Quebec today. The guns had been directed upon the Beauportcamp, to cover the real enterprise being carried on above. Also theriver had to be watched and guarded. Everything spoke of a changein tactics. There was a tense feeling in the air as though anelectric cloud hung low over the city. 

Then came a burst of cheering. Montcalm had been seen spurring onwith only a small band of followers over the bridge of the St. Charles towards the scene of danger; and now the army itself was insight, making its way after him across the bridge and towards thecity, through whose streets they must pass to gain unmolested thoseheights where the English were awaiting them, drawn up in closearray. 

Montcalm's face was full of anxiety, and yet full of courage, as hereturned the plaudits of the citizens. He knew that affairs wereserious, but he hoped and believed that he should find but a smalldetachment of the enemy waiting to receive him. He could notbelieve that very much had been accomplished in one night. A littleresolution and courage and military address, and the foe would bedislodged and driven ignominiously down those precipitous heightswhich they had scaled with such boldness a few hours before. 

It was a fine sight to see the troops pouring in by the PalaceGate, and out again by the gates of St. Louis and St. John--thewhite uniforms and gleaming bayonets of the battalions of oldFrance, the Canadian militia, and the troops of painted Indiansfollowing, cheered by the citizens, reinforced by the garrison, their hearts animated by lust of conquest and an assurance ofvictory, which assurance was not altogether shared by the citizensthemselves, whose scouts had brought in alarming tidings concerningthe strength of the English position. 

And now the soldiers had all marched through; the last of the bandshad disappeared from the streets; the garrison had taken themselvesto their own quarters; the men of the town had flocked out of thecity in the hope of seeing something of the fight; and the streetswere chiefly thronged by anxious women and wondering, wide-eyedchildren--all crowding together in groups, their faces turnedtowards those heights above where they knew the struggle was to befought out. 

"Hark to the firing!"

A deep silence fell upon the crowds in the streets--the hush of abreathless expectancy. The rattle of musketry fell upon their ears, and then a sound almost like a cannon shot. It was the volley ofthe English, delivered with such admirable precision. Aninvoluntary scream arose from many as that sound was heard. Had theEnglish got their artillery up to those inaccessible heights?

But no; there was no further sound of cannonading, only a fierceand continuous fusillade, which told of the battle raging sofiercely up yonder on the heights. 

Some women crowded into the churches to offer prayers at theshrines of saint or Virgin; but the majority could not tearthemselves away from the streets, nor from the open space near tothe gate of St. Louis, by which gate news would most likely enter. 

And it did. 

How the time went none could say, but it seemed only a short timeafter the firing had commenced before white-faced scouts from thetown, who had gone forth to see the battle, came running back withgestures of terror and despair. 

"The English are shooting us down like sheep. The French give wayon every side. Their terrible fire mows down our ranks like grassbefore the scythe! They are charging upon us now! We are scatteredand fleeing every way! Alas, alas! the day is lost. Quebec willfall!"

"Lost! it cannot be lost in this time, " cried pale-faced women, unable and unwilling to believe. "Where is the Governor? he willcome up with the reserves. Where is Bougainville? surely he willfall upon the English rear! Have we not twice the force of theEnglish? We cannot be conquered in this time! it would be a shameto France forever. "

So cried the people--one calling one thing, and another another, whilst every fresh scout brought in fresh tidings of disaster. There could be no doubt about it. The French army had been routedat the first onset. Where the fault lay none could tell, but theywere flying like chaff before the wind. 

Corinne stood close beside her aunt, silent, with dilated eyes, herheart beating almost to suffocation as she sought to hear what wassaid, and to make out the truth of the thousand wild rumours flyingabout. 

Colin came dashing through the gate. His face was flushed; he hadlost his hat; he was too breathless to speak. But he saw Corinne'ssignal, and came dashing up to them. He flung himself down upon theground, and struggled for breath. 

"O Colin, what have you seen?"

In a few moments more he was able to speak. 

"I have seen the battle!" he gasped; "I have seen it all. I couldnot have believed it would have been fought so soon. I have seensomething that these people would rejoice to know, but I shall nottell them. I have seen the fall of General Wolfe!"

Madame Drucour uttered a short exclamation of dismay. 

"General Wolfe killed! Colin, art thou sure?"

"Not sure that he is dead, only that he fell, and was carried awayby his men. He was heading the charge, as a brave General should. Oh, had you seen how that battle was directed, you could not buthave admired him, whether friend or foe! It teaches one what warcan be to see such generalship as that. "

"He is a great man, " said Madame Drucour softly; "I have alwaysmaintained that. Pray Heaven his life be spared, for he will be amerciful and gallant victor; and if he fall, we may not meet suchgenerous, chivalrous kindness from others. "

"Here come the soldiers!" cried Corinne, who from a little vantageground could see over the battlements. "Ah, how they run! as thoughthe enemy were at their heels. 

"Are you men? are you soldiers? For shame! for shame! To run likesheep when none pursues! Now indeed will I call myself French nolonger; I will be a British subject like my mother. It is notwillingly that I desert a losing cause; but I cannot bear suchpoltroonery. When have the English ever fled like this before us?Oh, it is a shame! it is a disgrace!"

"Ah, if you could have seen the English soldiers!" cried Colin, with eager enthusiasm; "I never heard a volley delivered as theirswas! They never wasted a shot. They stood like a rock whilst theFrench charged across to them, firing all the time. And when theydid fire, it was like a cannon shot; and after that, our men seemedto have no spirit left in them. When the smoke of the second volleycleared off, I could scarce believe my eyes. The dead seemed tooutnumber the living; and these were flying helter-skelter this wayand that!"

"But did not the General strive to rally them?"

"Doubtless he did. Our Marquis is a brave soldier and an ableGeneral; but what can one man do? Panic had seized the troops; andif you had heard the sound of cheering from the ranks of theEnglish, and that strange yell from those wild Highlanders as theydashed in pursuit, you would have understood better what thesoldiers felt like. They ran like sheep--they are running still. Isaw that if I were to have a chance of bringing you the news, Imust use all my powers, or I should be jammed in the mass of flyinghumanity making for the city; and since the English are not veryfar behind, I had need to make good my retreat. "

It was plain that Colin was only a little in advance of a portionof the defeated army, whose soldiers were now flocking back to thecity, spreading panic everywhere. 

Suddenly there ran through the assembled crowd a murmur whichgathered in volume and intensity, and changed to a strange sound asof wailing. Corinne, who had the best view, leaned eagerly forwardto see, and her face blanched instantly. 

A horseman was coming through the gate, supported on either side bya soldier; his face was deadly white, and blood was streaming froma wound in his breast. 

Madame Drucour looked also and uttered a cry:

"Monsieur le Marquis est tue!"

It was indeed Montcalm, shot right through the body, but notabsolutely unconscious, though dazed and helpless. 

Instantly Madame Drucour had forced a passage through the crowd, and was at his side. 

"Bring him this way, " she said to those who supported him and ledthe horse; "he will have the best attention here. "

Montcalm seemed to hear the words, and the wail of sorrow whichwent up from the bystanders. He roused himself, and spoke a fewwords, faintly and with difficulty. 

"It is nothing. You must not be troubled for me, my good friends. It is as it should be--as I would have it. "

Then his head drooped forward, and Madame Drucour hurried thesoldiers onward to the house where she now lived; Colin running onin advance to give notice of their approach, and if possible tofind Victor Arnoux, that the wounded man might receive immediateattention. 

The surgeon was luckily on the spot almost at once, and directedthe carrying of the Marquis into one of the lower rooms, where theylaid him on a couch and brought some stimulant for him to swallow. He was now quite unconscious; and the young surgeon, after lookingat the wound, bit his lip and stood in silent thought whilst thenecessary things were brought to him. 

"Is it dangerous?" asked Madame Drucour, in an anxious whisper, asshe looked down at the well-known face. 

"It is mortal!" answered Victor, in the same low tone. "He has nottwelve hours of life left in him. "

Chapter 2: Surrender. 

"Is the General yet living?" asked the Abbe an hour or two later, entering the house to which he knew his friend had been carried, alook of concentrated anxiety upon his face. 

Madame Drucour had heard his step even before she heard his voice. She was already beside him, her face pale and her eyes red withweeping. 

"Ah, my brother, " she cried, "thou art come to tell us that all islost!"

"All would not be lost if the army had a head!" answered the Abbe, with subdued energy. "We could outnumber the enemy yet if we had asoldier fit to take command. But the Marquis--how goes it withhim?"

"He lives yet, but he is sinking fast. He will never see the lightof another day!" and the tears which had gathered in MadameDrucour's eyes fell over her cheeks. 

"My poor friend!" sighed the Abbe; and after a pause of musing headded, "Is he conscious?"

"Yes; he came to himself a short while ago, and insisted uponknowing how it was with him. "

"He knows, then?"

"Yes--Victor Arnoux told him the truth: but I think he knew itbefore. "

"And what said he?"

"That it was well; that he should not live to see the surrender ofQuebec; that his work was done on earth, and he ready to depart. "

"Then he thinks the cause is lost?"

"Those are the words he used. Perchance he knows that there is noone now to lead or direct them. You know, my brother, that thebrave Senezergues lies mortally wounded. He might have taken thecommand; but now we have none fit for it. You have seen what ispassing without the city; tell me of it! What does the Governor?They say that when the battle was fought he had not yet appearedupon the scene of action. "

"No, " answered the Abbe bitterly, "he had not. Yet he had had noticefour hours before the fighting commenced, and was nearer than theMarquis, who brought the army up. He came too late to do anything. He is always late. He comes up at the end of everything--to claimcredit if the day is won, to throw the blame upon others if fortunefrowns. He is saying now that it was a deplorable mistake onMontcalm's part to attack before he had joined issues with him; asthough his raw Canadians had ever done any good in the open field!"

"You have seen him, then?"

"Yes; he and a part of the routed army have taken possession of theredoubt at the head of the bridge of boats across the St. Charles, and so completely are they cowed and terrified that it was all thata few of the cooler-headed ones of us could do to prevent the menfrom cutting in pieces the bridge itself, and thus cutting off theretreat of half the army, who are still pouring back over it, pursued by the English. "

"Then the fight is not yet over?"

"The battle is, but not the rout. And yet there is a sort offighting going on. The Canadians, who in the open field showthemselves so useless, are redeeming their character now. They havespread themselves over the low-lying lands by the river, hiding inbushes and coverts, and shooting down the English in a fashionwhich they little relish. Those fierce Highlanders suffer the mostfrom this sort of warfare, for they always throw away their musketsbefore they charge, and so they have no weapon that is of anyservice against a hidden marksman in the bushes. But all this, though it may harass the English, does not affect the issue of theday. We have suffered a crushing defeat, although the number of theslain is not excessive. It remains now to be settled whether weaccept this defeat as final, or whether we yet try to make a standfor the honour of our country and the salvation of Canada. "

"Ah, my brother, if Quebec goes, Canada goes!"

"That is so; but there are many of us who say that Quebec is notyet lost. It is not lost; it might well be saved. And yet whatthink you of this? They say that within the hornwork the Governorand the Intendant were closeted together drafting the terms ofcapitulation of the whole colony, ready to submit to the EnglishGeneral!"

"So soon?"

"So they say. I know not if it be altogether true, but all isconfusion worse confounded yonder. The soldiers are pouring back totheir camp at Beauport in a perfect fever of panic. I heard thatBigot would have tried to muster and lead them against the enemyonce more, and that the Governor gave his sanction, but that theofficers would not second the suggestion. I think all feel thatwith only Vaudreuil to lead fighting is hopeless. He knows not hisown mind two minutes together; he agrees always with the lastspeaker. He is always terrified in the moment of real crisis andperil. His bluster and gasconade desert him, and leave him inpitiful case. "

"What, then, is to be done?"

"That I cannot tell. I have come with a message from the Governorto the Marquis. He sent me to ascertain his condition, and ifpossible to ask counsel of him. His word would still carry weight. If he is sufficiently himself to listen for a few minutes to what Ihave to say, I would then put the case and ask his opinion uponit. "

Madame Drucour drew the Abbe softly into the room where the dyingman lay. Montcalm's eyes opened as he heard them approach. At thesight of the Abbe he seemed to try to rouse himself. 

"You have brought news! Tell me, how goes it?"

The Abbe repeated in some detail the after events of the battle androut, Montcalm listening to every word with the keenest interestand attention. 

"Where is the Governor?" he asked at the conclusion of thenarrative. 

"He was still at the hornwork when I left, " answered the Abbe; "butmany were clamouring around him, declaring that the place would becarried by assault almost immediately, and all of them cut topieces without quarter; and that they had better surrender the cityand colony at once than lose all their lives in an unavailingstruggle. "

Montcalm's face, upon which death had already set its seal, remained immovably calm and tranquil. 

"What said the Governor?" he asked. 

"He appeared to agree with this view of the case. He is muchalarmed and disturbed. He is preparing to return to his ownquarters upon the Beauport road, and will there hold a council asto the next step to be taken. It was he who asked me to go back tothe city and see you, my General, and ask what advice you have forus. We are in a sore strait, and there seems none to advise us; butany word that comes from you will have its weight with the army. "

Montcalm lay silent a long while. Physical weakness made speakingdifficult, and his mind no longer worked with the lightningquickness of old days. He seemed to find some slight difficulty inbringing it down to the affairs of earthly battles and struggles. 

"Tell the Governor, " he said at last, speaking faint and low, "thatthere is a threefold choice before him; and that though were I atthe head of the army, I should say, Fight, I do not offer himcounsel to do so; I only tell him the alternatives. The first ofthese is to fight--to join forces with Ramesay's garrison and thesailors from the batteries here, and to gather in all the outlyingCanadians and Indians of the neighbourhood. With such an army ascould be quickly gathered, and by acting in concert withBougainville from Cap Rouge, there is at least a very fair chanceof vanquishing the foe in open fight. The next alternative is forhim to retire upon Jacques Cartier, leaving Quebec with anefficient garrison, and from there to harass the enemy, cut offsupplies, and otherwise prolong the siege till the approach ofwinter forces them to take to their ships and go. The third is togive up the colony to English rule. Let the Governor and hiscouncil take their choice of these three plans, for there is noother. "

"I will take the message myself, " said the Abbe, pressing the handof his friend, and stooping to imprint a kiss on the pale brow. "God be with you, my friend, in the hour of trial; and may Hereceive your soul when He shall have called it! I shall pray forthe repose of your gallant spirit. Peace be with you. Farewell. "

Montcalm was too much exhausted for further speech, but he made aslight gesture with his hand, and the Abbe left him, Madame Drucourstealing after him for a last word. 

"You will not run into peril yourself, my brother?"

"Nay, " he answered, with a touch of bitterness in his tone; "Ishall be safe enough, since my errand is to the Governor. Monsieurde Vaudreuil is never known to put himself into danger. Oh that wehad a Governor who thought first of the honour of France and secondof his own safety!"

"But surely they will fight! they will not give up Quebec without astruggle? Look at the walls and ramparts, untouched and impregnableas ever! Our town is shattered, it is true, but that has long beendone. Why should we give up the city because a few hundred soldiershave been slain upon the Plains of Abraham? We have still a greatarmy to fight with. "

"We have; but where is the General to lead us? Nevertheless, we maystill show ourselves men. 

"Colin, my boy, is that thou? What, dost thou want to come with me?So be it, then. Thou shalt do so, and take back word to thy aunthere as to what the council decides. 

"I may find work over yonder with the sick and wounded. I may notreturn tonight. But Colin shall come back with news, and you willknow that all is well with me. "

They went together, and Madame Drucour returned to her watch besidethe sick and dying man. The surgeon stole in and out as his otherduties permitted him, and Corinne shared the watch beside the couchwhere Montcalm lay. 

The Bishop, who in spite of his feebleness had been abroad in thecity, seeking to console the dying and to cheer up the garrison, depressed by rumours of the flight of the army, came in at dusk, exhausted and depressed himself, to find another dying soldier inneed of the last rites of the Church. 

It was a solemn scene which that dim room witnessed as the nightwaned and the approach of dawn came on. Without all was confusion, hurry, anxiety, and distress, none seeking sleep in their beds, alleagerly awaiting tidings from the army--the news which should tellthem whether they were to be gallantly supported or left to theirfate. Within there was the deep hush which the approach of deathseems ever to bring. The short, gasping confession had been made;the Bishop stood over the dying man, making the sign and speakingthe words of absolution. A young priest from the Seminary and anacolyte had been found to assist at the solemn rite; and MadameDrucour, with Corinne and the faithful old servant, knelt at thefarther end of the room, striving to keep back their tears. 

It was over at last. The words of commendation had been spoken; thelast labouring breath had been drawn. Corinne, half choking withher emotion, and feeling as though she would be stifled if she wereto remain longer in that chamber of death, silently glided away outof the room into the open air; and once there, she broke into wildweeping, the result of the long tension of her pent-up emotion. 

"Mademoiselle, mademoiselle! Corinne!" cried a familiar voice in asubdued tone from some place not far distant. "Is it indeed you?Nay, do not weep; there is not need. We shall not harm you; you andyours shall be safe whatever comes to pass in Quebec. "

Corinne gazed about her in astonishment. Who was speaking to her?The next house to theirs was deserted, because the roof had beenblown off, and a shell had fallen through, breaking almost everyfloor. Yet the voice seemed to come from a window within thathouse, and in the dim and uncertain moonlight she saw a head--twoheads--protruding from a first-floor window. Next minute she wasfurther astonished by the rapid descent of three figures, whoseemed to clamber like monkeys down the shattered wall; and beholdthe three merry midshipmen were grouped around her, holding herhands and seeking to cheer her. 

"Peter--Paul--Arthur! How came you here? Surely Quebec is not takenyet!"

"No, but so nearly taken that we thought to steal a march. We havebeen working since evening in dragging up cannon upon the plainyonder, where the army is intrenching itself; and when our task wasdone, we felt a great wish to see what was passing in the citywhere we had many friends, and which we knew so well. In theconfusion it was not difficult to get in under cover of the dusk;but we found we could not get out again--at least not when wetried. But we cared little for that. There are plenty of emptyhouses to hide in, and we had bread in our pockets. We heard of youand Madame Drucour, and have been watching and waiting in hopes ofseeing you. But, Corinne, are you weeping because the English areabout to take Quebec? We looked upon you as an ally and acompatriot. "

"I am weeping because our good General, the Marquis of Montcalm, isjust dead, " answered Corinne, wiping her eyes. "He lies withinthose walls, sleeping the last sleep. He will never see his wifeand his mother and his mill at Candiac again. And he has talked somuch to us of all those things, and of the children he loved sowell. Oh, war is a cruel thing! Pray Heaven it may come to a speedyend!"

The sound of flying footsteps up the street caused the midshipmento look at one another, and meditate a return to their hidingplace; but Corinne said:

"That is Colin's step; he comes back with news. "

And, in truth, the next moment Colin stood amongst them, so full ofexcitement himself that the sudden appearance of the midshipmen, whom he instantly recognized, did not at once strike him withastonishment. 

"I will never call myself a Frenchman again!" he panted, his eyesgleaming with wrath. "What think you, Corinne? They are flying fromthe camp at Beauport as sheep fly before wolves. It is no retreat, it is a rout--a disgraceful, abominable, causeless rout. There isno enemy near. The English are up on the heights, intrenchingthemselves no doubt, and resting after their gallant enterprise. Our uncle has exhausted his powers of persuasion. He has shown themagain and again how strong is their position still, how little itwould even now take of courage and resolution to save Quebec andthe colony. They will not listen--they will not hear. They areflying like chaff before the wind. They are leaving everythingbehind in their mad haste to be gone! And the Indians will swoopdown directly the camp is empty, and take everything. Oh, it is adisgrace, a disgrace! Not even to take a night to think it over. Ifthe English did but know, and sent out a few hundred soldiers uponthem, they might cut the whole army to pieces in a few hours!"

Colin, Colin! oh, is it so?"

"It is indeed; and all that the men say when one speaks to them isthat Wolfe and his soldiers are too much for them. They will notstay to be hacked to pieces. "

"Alas!" said Paul gravely, "the gallant Wolfe is no more. If youhave lost your General, so have we. Wolfe fell early in the battle, and Moncton is dangerously wounded. We are robbed of our two firstofficers; but for all that we will have Quebec and Canada. "

"And you deserve it!" answered Colin, fired with generousenthusiasm. "If our French soldiers and officers fling away theircourage and their honour, let us welcome those who have both, andwho are masters worthy to be served and loved. "

It was a strange, sad day. The confusion and despair in the townwere pitiful to behold. With the first light of day it was seenthat the camp at Beauport was still standing, and hope sprang up inthe hearts of the townsfolk. But when, shortly after, it was knownthat though standing it had been abandoned, and that the night hadseen the indiscriminate flight of the whole army, the deepestdespondency fell upon the town. This feeling was not lessened whenit began to be whispered that the Chevalier Ramesay had receivedinstructions from the Governor not to attempt to hold the town inface of a threatened assault, but to wait till the scantyprovisions had been exhausted, and then raise the white flag andobtain the best terms he could. 

The Abbe had stayed to bring this last letter from the flyingGovernor. His own soul was stirred to the depths by indignation andsorrow. It seemed to him the crowning disgrace in a disgracefulflight. Ramesay had sought speech with the Marquis a few hoursbefore his death, but could obtain no advice from him. He had donewith worldly things, and could only wish well to those who wereleft behind. It was a desperate state of affairs, and all the townknew it. 

So great was the confusion that no workman could be found to make acoffin for the body of the dead General. The old servant of theUrsulines, faithful to the last, went hither and thither andcollected a few planks and nails, and the midshipmen and Colinassisted her to nail together a rude coffin in which the body waspresently laid. It must be buried that same evening, for none knewfrom hour to hour what was in store for the city. But no pomp orcircumstance could attend the funeral; and indeed no one could befound to dig a grave. 

Yet a fitting grave was found in the chapel of the Ursulineconvent, now little more than a ruin. An exploding shell had made adeep cavity in the floor not far from the altar, and this hollowwas soon shaped into the similitude of a grave. 

No bells tolled or cannon fired as the mournful procession filedthrough the streets; yet it did not lack a certain sombre dignity. The Bishop and the Abbe headed it, with a few priests from theCathedral in attendance. Ramesay was there with his officers, andMadame Drucour, with Colin and Corinne, the three midshipmen (whono longer feared to show themselves), and the old servant, broughtup the rear. As the cortege passed through the streets, numbers ofcitizens fell in behind, together with women and children, weepingfor one whose name was dear, and who they all averred would havesaved their city had he lived. 

Torches were lit before the procession filed into the ruinedchurch, and sobs mingled with the chants that were rehearsed overthe grave. 

"Alas, alas!" sobbed the women; "we have buried our hopes in thatgrave. We have lost our General; we shall lose our city, and allCanada will follow. "

"It is no wonder they feel so, " said the Abbe to his sister thatnight; "we are abandoned by the army that might have saved us. Wehave scarce provision to last a week, even on half rations--so Iheard today--and all the merchants and townspeople are forimmediate capitulation. It is possible that when our army findsitself at Jacques Cartier, thirty miles from the scene of danger, and in an impregnable position, they may rally their courage andreconsider the situation; but unless I am greatly mistaken, thatresolution will come too late--Quebec will have alreadysurrendered. "

Things had come to a desperate pass. Only one out of all theofficers was in favour of resistance; the rest declared itimpossible. The English on the heights were intrenched, and werepushing their trenches nearer and nearer. Though Wolfe was dead andMoncton disabled, Townshend, the third in command, was acting withthe energy and resolve which had characterized the expedition allalong. 

Three days after Montcalm's death matters reached a crisis. Troopswere seen approaching the Palace Gate from the St. Charles meadows, and the ships of war were slowly nearing the town with evidentintention of opening fire. 

All the city was in a state of uncontrollable fright and agitation. The officers crowded round Ramesay's quarters declaring that theycould do nothing with their men; that the men said they knew thatorders had been given to avoid assault, and that they werethreatening to carry their guns back to the arsenal, and desertbodily to the English. So disgusted and disheartened were they bythe action of the Governor and his army that they had no fight leftin them. 

"Raise the white flag then!" said the Commander, in brief, sterntones. 

Was it a cheer or a groan which arose from the town as the symbolof surrender was seen floating above the battlements? Once it wastorn down by some more ardent spirit; but again it floated high, and the people gazing up at it gesticulated and wept, thoughwhether for sorrow or joy they could scarce have told themselves. 

It was known that a messenger had gone forth to confer with theEnglish commander, and the negotiations were drawn out hour afterhour, in the hope of some succour from without; till a sternmessage came back that if they were not signed within an hour, theassault would be ordered. 

Then Ramesay signed, having secured more favourable terms than hehad dared to hope for. The capitulation of Quebec was anaccomplished fact!

Yet even whilst the people were still thronging the streets andopen places by the gateway, a band of weary horsemen were seenspurring towards the city. As the foremost entered he cried:

"Courage, good friends, courage! Help is at hand! The army ismarching to your defence! Quebec shall yet be saved!"

Alas! Quebec had fallen. Sobs and groans went up from the women, and curses from the men. There was a rush for Ramesay's quarters totell the news and ask what could be done; but the Chevalier's facewas stern and hard. 

"Nothing can be done, " he said. "You have had your own will. Youhave signed away your city. Honour will not permit me to break myword. Besides, how can we trust an army which has basely desertedus once? If they would not attack the foe before he had had time tointrench and fortify himself, how can we hope that they will havecourage to brave the assault of a formidable intrenched campdefended by artillery?

"Go back whence you came, sirs, and tell the Governor, if you will, that his cowardice and desertion have done their work. Quebec islost to France for ever, and Canada will follow. He could havesaved it four days ago had he had the heart of a soldier or thehead of a statesman; now it is lost irrevocably!"

Chapter 3: Friendly Foes. 

Quebec was taken; it had surrendered without a blow when once thebattle upon the heights above had ended in the overthrow of theFrench army. 

Julian and Fritz exchanged glances of wonder when it was knownbeyond all doubt that the capitulation had been signed. It wasmarvellous to them, who knew the full peril of their own position, that the French should be so blind. A concerted attack from the twoarmies of the immediate locality could scarcely have failed todrive them from their vantage ground back to their ships; and oncethere, the Admirals would have had no choice but to put to sea oncemore; for already the season was closing, and it would then havebeen madness to think of any further operations for that season. 

And yet sadness rather than joy was the main feeling in the heartsof these comrades as they prepared themselves to be of the numberto march into the city. 

Fritz was still somewhat lame from the effect of his wound; but hissplendid physique had made light of the injury, and in otherrespects he was sound and strong. Humphrey walked beside him, giving him a little assistance over rough ground, and Julian was onhis other side. They were full of curiosity to behold the citywhich it had cost them so much to take, and Fritz was anxious tofind again those friends who had shown him kindness in past days. Julian, too, was very desirous to meet Madame Drucour once more, and renew with her those pleasant relations which had commencedwithin the fortress of Louisbourg. 

Townshend, the Brigadier now in command, had granted easy terms tothe place. He knew too well the peril of his position not to bethankful for having Quebec almost at any price. The garrison andthe sailors, who formed a considerable portion of the force in thecity, were to march out with the honours of war, and were to beshipped to France with what speed they might. The promisedprotection offered by Wolfe to all peaceable inhabitants was to beassured to all, together with the free exercise of their ownreligion. 

To Townshend had been carried upon the very day of the capitulationa letter written by Montcalm only a few hours before his death, thefeeble penmanship of which showed well how difficult it had been tohim to indite it. In effect it was the last thing he ever wrote, and the signature was nothing but a faint initial, as though thefailing fingers refused the task before them. 

"Monsieur, " ran the missive, "the well-known humanity of theEnglish sets my mind at peace concerning the fate of the Frenchprisoners and the Canadians. Feel towards them as they have causedme to feel. Do not let them perceive that they have changedmasters. Be their protector as I have been their father, "

It was probable that Montcalm believed himself addressing Wolfewhen he wrote this last charge. It was not known with any certaintyin Quebec that the English General had fallen, Some had heard hewas wounded, but no certainty prevailed. Indeed it was with noexultation that Quebec heard of the death of the dreaded Wolfe. Ifhe were redoubtable in the field of battle, he was known to be amerciful and generous foe in the hour of victory. Madame Drucourhad shed tears when told for certain of the hero's fall; the Abbehad sorrowfully shaken his bead, and had told the citizens thatthey had nothing to rejoice over in that. 

So the garrison marched out with as much bravery and martial showas they could under the circumstances, and the citizens crowded thestreets and ramparts to cheer them as they went, and watch withmingled feelings the entrance of the English troops into the townand the hoisting of the English flag. Sobs broke from many, and adeep groan rose shudderingly upon the air; and yet there were verymany in the city who cared little for the change of masters, ifonly they might be rid of the horrors of war. 

Life had long been very difficult under the French rule. So muchofficial corruption existed, especially in the matter of suppliesof food and other necessaries, that the unhappy people were forcedto pay double and treble value for almost everything, and werebeing slowly bled to death, that a few functionaries like Bigot andCadet might fatten and grow enormously rich. They had begun to knowthat the English colonies were very differently governed; that theygrew in strength and independence, and were encouraged, and notthwarted and hindered, in their internal development. Although muchsmaller in extent than Canada, their population was double that ofthe French colony. It was indeed the growing strength andprosperity of the English provinces which had excited the jealousanimosity of the French, and had quickened their resolve to penthem in between mountain and sea, and hinder their development. Andthis resolve had been followed by the commencement of that borderwarfare to which this was the sequel. 

England knew better than let herself be penned within narrowlimits. She had broken through the bonds which held her back. Nowshe was mistress of the key and capital of Canada. It could only bea matter of time before the whole colony fell to her. 

"It may be better for them in the end, " said Madame Drucour, heaving a long sigh as she watched the departure of the garrison, and saw the scarlet uniforms of the English flooding the streets ofQuebec, "And yet it is hard to see it. I knew it must come, but myheart is heavy within me. If only we had made a more gallant fight, I should have felt it less. "

"There he is! there he is!" shouted Colin suddenly; "there is FritzNeville!"

"Ah, " cried Madame Drucour, with a quick look of pleasure, "andthere is Monsieur Julian Dautray too! Get speech with them if youcan, Colin, and bring them to supper at our house. There is much Ishould like to ask them; and if some of the officers are to bebilleted amongst us townsfolk, I would gladly have those two tocare for. "

"I'll go and see about it, " cried Colin. 

"Take us with you, " cried the midshipmen, who had viewed theprocession with swelling hearts, uttering now and then a Britishcheer, which mingled oddly with the sighs of the people. However, since they had cheered the retiring troops as lustily as their owncountrymen, no one took this amiss. Indeed the young middies hadmade themselves popular in the town by this time, and had donesomething to promote a feeling of confidence in the goodwill andclemency of the victors. 

Corinne and her aunt returned homeward. The girl was in a state ofgreat excitement, sorrow for the regret of others mingling with herown secret triumph and joy in the victory of the English. 

It was no use trying to disguise from herself that she was glad theEnglish had prevailed. She had come to have a contempt and distrustof the French and their ways and their rule. She admired theEnglish, and believed in them. They had shown courage andresolution and heroism--had accomplished a feat which had hithertobeen deemed impossible. She was proud of the British blood runningin her veins, and was ready to welcome the victors with all herheart. 

So she decked the supper table with green leaves and grasses, and afew flowers culled from the convent garden, where it had not beentorn to pieces by shot and shell. The viands were not veryplentiful, it is true, since scarcity still prevailed in the city;but that would come to an end now, for the English were alreadymaking arrangements for throwing in ample supplies. 

Then she ran upstairs to don her best holiday gown, feeling awonderful rebound of spirit after the depression and anxiety andhorror of the past days. She sang a little to herself as sheflitted about her room, and was only just ready when she heardColin's voice from below summoning her to come. 

She ran down the staircase and glided into the supper room, to findit (as it seemed) quite full of company. It was too dusk todistinguish faces by that time, but Bonnehomme Michel appeared atthe moment, bringing in two lamps, and the faces of the guests wereinstantly revealed to her. 

Her face lighted as she met the friendly glance of Fritz Neville, and she extended her hand with a pretty welcoming grace. The nextminute she found herself exchanging greetings with an officer inBritish uniform, a dark-eyed, dark-haired man, with a veryclear-cut, handsome face. Nor did it surprise her to hear that thiswas Captain Dautray, who had played a romantic part in the siege ofLouisbourg. 

"My aunt, Madame Drucour, has often spoken of you, sir, " she said, "and told us how you disguised yourself and adventured yourselfinto the heart of the enemy's fortress. In sooth, I wonder youcould ever dare such a deed. Suppose you had been found out?"

"Then I should have been shot as a spy, I do not doubt, " answeredJulian, "and should never have known the pleasure of making theacquaintance of the brave Madame Drucour--'Madame le General, ' asshe was called in Louisbourg--nor of being presented in Quebec toMademoiselle her niece. "

And as he spoke he bowed over Corinne's hand and raised it to hislips. 

The girl blushed and smiled. Such a salute was not uncommon inthose days, and there was nothing free in Julian's manner; indeedthere was a grave dignity about him which distinguished him inwhatever company he found himself, and his recent military traininghad done much to increase the natural advantages which had alwaysbeen his. 

The remaining guest, who was a stranger to her, was presented asHumphrey Angell, and she looked with quick interest at him, recollecting how Fritz had told her the tale of that terribleIndian raid, and how he had found the two brothers, almostdistracted by anguish and despair, amid the blackened ruins oftheir once prosperous settlement. This was the brother of thestrange, wild-looking man whom she and Colin had seen in the forestlong, long ago, and who had perished in the hour of vengeance. Howinteresting it was, she thought, to see all these men of whom shehad heard and thought so much! She let her glance wander from oneface to the other, and she was not ashamed of the feeling of keenadmiration which awoke within her. 

The three midshipmen were also of the company. Discipline had beensomewhat relaxed in the hour of battle and victory, and they hadobtained leave of absence from their ship for a while. Colin hadbrought them back for a farewell repast. They seemed almost likesons of the house by this time; and they had brought with them, from one of the provision transports, a supply of good victualswhich had made Bonnehomme Michel's eyes shine and her wrinkledvisage beam. 

The scent of coffee pervaded the house, and soon a savoury messsuch as had not been seen for long upon that table was set down, and the guests, in excellent spirits, took their places. Corinnefound herself seated next to Julian, with Arthur on her other side. The Abbe took the foot of the table, and Madame Drucour the head. She looked pale and grave, but showed a gentle dignity and courtesyof bearing which was very impressive; and everyone showed her allpossible deference. 

Corinne spoke to Julian in a low voice. 

"I want to ask of your General, the great Wolfe. Were you with himwhen he died?"

"Yes, Mademoiselle; he died in my arms. I have had the honour ofcalling myself his friend for above a year. "

At that word Madame Drucour looked up and said:

"Ah, let me hear of Monsieur Wolfe! I had hoped to see him againmyself. Such a hero, such a sweet and courteous gentleman!Frenchwoman though I be, I could have welcomed him as the victor ofQuebec!"

All listened with deep attention as Julian related in considerabledetail the story of the last hours of Wolfe, and Madame Drucourwiped her eyes many times during the recital. 

"Ah! if he had but lived to see the city of his hopes, I wouldmyself have been his nurse, and would have brought him back tohealth and strength. 

"You smile, sir; but yet I have seen much of sickness. You willhear that the doctors themselves give me the credit for saving manylives. "

"I can believe it, Madame; indeed I have seen something of thatskill with mine own eyes. But, alas! I fear that the case of ourfriend was beyond human skill. I think that, had he had the choice, he would have chosen to die as he did in the hour of victory. Towear out a life of suffering in uncongenial inactivity would havebeen sorely irksome to his unquenchable spirit; and yet, after thehardships through which he had passed, I misdoubt me if he couldever have taken the field again. He would have endured the periland pain of another long voyage only to die upon shipboard, or athis home if he lived to reach it. The hand of death was surely uponhim. "

"And to die in the hour of a glorious victory is surely a fittingclose to a hero's life, " said Corinne softly to Julian, when thetide of talk had recommenced to flow in other quarters. "But tellme, does he leave behind many to mourn him? Has he parents living, or sisters and brothers, or one nearer and dearer still? Has he awife in England?"

"Not a wife, Mademoiselle, but one who was to have been his wifehad he lived to return, and a mother who loves him as the apple ofthe eye. I shall have a sad task before me when I return to tellthem of him whom they have loved and lost. "

"Are you then going back to England?" asked Corinne; "are you notborn in these lands of the West?"

"Yes; and I think that my home will be here when my duties to myfriend are done. But first I must return to his home and hismother, and give to them there his last loving messages, and thosethings he wished them to possess of his. Indeed, his body is to betaken back, embalmed; the officers have decided upon that. I mustsee his mother and Miss Lowther again; then I think I shall returnto these Western shores once again, and make my home upon Canadiansoil. "

"Tell me more about Mrs. Wolfe and Miss Lowther, " said Corinne, with keen interest in her eyes and voice. 

So Julian told her much of the events of those months which hespent in England by the side of Wolfe, and at last he drew forththe double miniature containing the likeness of the two who lovedthe hero so well, and gave it to Corinne to look at. 

The tears came into her eyes as she gazed at the two faces. He sawthe sparkle on her long lashes as she returned him the case, and heloved her for them. 

"It is a beautiful face; both are beautiful faces, " she said. "Howsad for them--how very sad--that he should return to them no more!Do you think Miss Lowther will ever love again? Or will she gomourning all the days of her life for him whom she has lost?"

Julian shook his head doubtfully. 

"I cannot tell; yet time is a great healer, and Wolfe himself senther a message bidding her not mourn too long and deeply for him. She is still young, and the time they spent together was not verylong. I trust and hope that comfort will come to her when her griefhas abated and the wound has healed. Life would become toosorrowful a thing if death were able to make such lasting havoc ofits hopes and happiness. "

Corinne drew a long sigh. She had seen much of death and disasterthose last months of her young life. It would indeed be too cruelif the hand of time held no healing balm in its clasp. 

The next days were full of interest for Corinne. Julian took herand Colin under his special protection and care. Fritz was kept tothe house and its vicinity by his lameness, which the march intothe city had rather increased; and Humphrey was busy in a thousandways. But Julian, though he had sundry duties to perform, hadplenty of leisure on his hands, too; and he gave up a great portionof this leisure to taking Corinne and her brother a regular tour ofthe various ships, and of the camps where the English had settledthemselves whilst attacking Quebec--showing them exactly how theHeights of Abraham had been scaled, how the plain had been reachedand the battle set in array there; and the spot where Wolfe hadfallen, and that where he had died. 

The bright-faced girl, with her French name and English sympathies, was feted and welcomed everywhere. Brigadier Townshend gave adinner to some of the residents, and the Abbe and Madame Drucour, with their nephew and niece, were invited. Corinne's health wasproposed and drunk amid acclamation, greatly to her ownastonishment; and wherever she went she met with nothing butkindness and respect. 

She was given a number of trophies of the recent war--a smalldagger that had belonged to Wolfe being the most prized of themall. She daily visited the hospital with her aunt, and cheered byher bright presence both the English and French who lay there. 

All was busy in and about the city. The garrison was being shippedoff to France, according to the terms of the capitulation; and anumber of residents whose homes had been destroyed, and who had nomind to remain in the place now that the English were the masters, were eager likewise to be gone. The French ships in the upperreaches of the river were permitted to come down, take up theircrews again, and transport the fugitives to France. 

But the Abbe and his sister remained on, uncertain of their future, Madame Drucour waited for news of her husband, and the Abbelingered to know if he could serve his countrymen any longer. Theyhad friends in France, but were not much disposed to return to thatland. Colin and Corinne were burning with desire to see England atleast, even if they did not remain there; and Madame Drucour wasdisposed to wish the same thing for herself. 

One day Humphrey brought them news. He had had news of theex-governor of Louisbourg. He had fallen into the hands of theIndians, but had been rescued by the English, and had been sent, with a number of other prisoners, to England in one of theirreturning ships. The news had been brought by a sloop from NewYork. 

Vessels were beginning to arrive in the harbour now from theenthusiastic English provinces. Those in Quebec heard how joy bellswere ringing and bonfires blazing throughout New England and theprovinces. Far-seeing men saw in the fall of Quebec an augury of anew and splendid empire in the west, over which England shouldrule. So far, at least, there was no thought of anything else, although the spirit of independence had taken deep root whichanother day would bring forth a different sort of fruit. 

"Madame, your husband is safe, " said Humphrey when brought to herto tell his tale; "I have heard it from one who saw him. He has notsuffered any severe hurt at the hands of the Indians. They were ofthose who were wavering betwixt loyalty to France and loyalty toEngland, and who made captives of white men wherever they could, hoping to get a ransom for them. He was rescued by the English andbrought to New York, put safely on board a home-sailing vessel, anddoubtless he is safe on shore there by this time. He will be welltreated; have no fears as to that. The brave Governor of Louisbourgwill find many friends in England. "

"Where I will join him!" cried Madame Drucour, clasping her hands. "Yes, that settles my hesitation. If my husband is in England, Iwill go thither and join him; and these children shall go with us, and make acquaintance with their mother's kindred in Scotland. 

"Captain Dautray, can you help us in this matter? Can you securefor us a passage in one of your many noble ships so soon to return?You have been so true a friend to us that we appeal to you withconfidence and courage. "

"It rejoices me that you should do so, Madame. I will see to it atonce. If possible, you shall sail in the same ship as I do myself. I think there will be little difficulty. Each vessel will transporta certain number of those who desire to return to France or to becarried to English shores. "

Corinne clapped her hands; her whole face lighted up. 

"Oh, I shall see England! I shall realize the dream of my life!

"Colin, do you hear--do you understand? We are going toEngland--and in Captain Dautray's ship!"

"Hurrah!" cried the boy; "hurrah for old England! And if we go inCaptain Dautray's ship, we shall have our middies for ourcompanions, for they are to belong to the Royal William, too. Ah, that will be something to live for indeed! When do we sail? andwhere shall we go when we get there?"

"The Admirals want to leave as soon as possible, " answered Julian;"they have already stayed far beyond the time they intended. Butthere is much to arrange, and they will not go till they havesufficiently victualled the town, and settled the new garrison ascomfortably and securely as may be. 

"Still it will not be long now, And as for the rest, I can only begof you to come first, upon landing, to the house of Mrs. Wolfe, where I myself am bound. Madame Drucour's name is known to her. 

"Her son spoke much of you, Madame, and of your kindness to him atLouisbourg. And they know too how kindly others were treated--yourhumble servant being one. Believe me, it will be the greatestpleasure to Mrs. Wolfe to welcome anyone who has known and lovedher son, I have to visit her immediately; come at least with me sofar. After that we will learn where Monsieur Drucour is to befound, and I will seek him out and bring him to you. "

So the matter was settled, and the Abbe gave his approval. Hehimself would remain in Quebec, the friend and counsellor of thevictorious English, whom he could not but regard with affection andrespect. 

Of the Brigadiers in command, Moncton was too much shattered to doaught but go home to recover of his wounds; Townshend was resolvedto sail back, to receive the compliments and honours of the victory(since Wolfe had passed beyond these things); and Murray was leftin command of Quebec. 

There had been some talk of destroying it rather than facing theperils of keeping it in its shattered condition, and with a Frencharmy so near. But English pluck had scorned this policy, andalready the men were hard at work repairing its defences, andstoring away a sufficient supply of provisions for the long, inclement winter that lay before them. 

"We may have to fight for it yet, " spoke some as they cheerfullyworked at their fascines; "but we have got Quebec, and we mean tokeep it, let the French storm and rage as they will. If we couldtake it from them almost without a blow, surely we can keep it nowwe have it!"

Chapter 4: The Last. 

"Fritz, Fritz! what do you think? Who do you think has come toQuebec? Why, my brother-in-law, good Benjamin Ashley, together withhis wife and daughter. They have come in charge of a trim littlevessel, laden with provisions, sent as a gift from the citizens ofPhiladelphia to the victors of Quebec. He has charge of the cargo, I mean, not of the sloop; and he says he has come to stop, but Ihad no time to hear all his story. Others were flocking about him, and he had letters for the commanding officer. I hastened away tofind you and tell the news. Let us go back together and learn moreof this thing. "

Into Fritz's face there had leaped a look of quick and keeninterest. 

"Benjamin Ashley, " he repeated, "with his wife and daughter! Islittle Susanna actually here in Quebec?"

"Yes, and my sister, " cried Humphrey eagerly, "looking but littlechanged from the day I left her in Philadelphia months ago. Andtheir first inquiry after kissing me was for you, Fritz. Had youescaped the perils of the war? how were you? and were you here inthe town also?"

"Let us go and see them, " cried Fritz, seizing his stick; "I wouldbe one of the first to welcome them. It is true that you saidBenjamin Ashley spoke of coming to Quebec if it should fall to us, but I never thought to see him here so soon. He must have a stoutheart, for the perils of the place are not ended yet, I fear. "

"He has a stout heart, in truth, " answered Humphrey; "and rightglad am I to see him. Quebec will be more of a home to us ifBenjamin Ashley and his wife and daughter are dwelling within itswalls. "

"Indeed it will, " answered Fritz eagerly; and forthwith the pairstarted off together in search of their kinsfolk and friends. 

On the way they encountered John Stark, who was the head of theband of Rangers to be quartered in Quebec during the winter as partof the garrison, and he was greatly excited by the news. 

"Hurrah for brave Benjamin Ashley! It is like the stout-heartedfellow he always was to join his countrymen in times of perilrather than wait till all was smooth sailing. We shall wantstout-hearted citizens of English blood within the city walls, topeople the empty houses, and save us from being too much surroundedwith half-hearted Canadian residents. If we are beleaguered by aFrench army, as is likely enough, we shall want citizens as well assoldiers if we are to hold our prize against them. "

This was, indeed, very true, and therefore it was that any settlersfrom New England were warmly welcomed by the officers in charge ofthe fortress and city. They could depend upon their soldiers in thegarrison well enough; but every commander knows how much harm canbe done to a cause by discontent and half-heartedness in the city. 

At Louisbourg it was the voice of the citizens that had turned thescale and forced the capitulation, and the same thing had, to agreat extent, happened at Quebec, The citizens had been discouragedand rendered desperate by the way in which the town had suffered, and this feeling had reacted upon the garrison, and had renderedthem far less willing to try to hold out than they might otherwisehave been. 

It was some little time before Humphrey and his comrades could findAshley. He had been taken to the commander of the fortress todeliver up his papers and have a personal interview with him; andit was said that he was being entertained by him at table, and hiswife and daughter also. 

Presently the news came that Mr. Ashley from Philadelphia wasinspecting the premises of the Fleur de Lye, which was the mostcommodious and important inn in the lower town. It had been a gooddeal shattered by the bombardment, and the proprietor had beenkilled by a bursting shell. His family had been amongst the firstof the inhabitants to take ship for France and now the place stoodempty, its sign swinging mournfully from the door, waiting for someenterprising citizen to come and open business there again. 

"Doubtless the Commander has given him the offer of the house andbusiness, " said Fritz when he heard. "Ashley is just the man torestore prosperity to the old inn. Let us go and seek him there, Humphrey. A stout-hearted English-speaking host will be rightwelcome at the inn, and our fellows will bring him plenty ofcustom. "

The comrades hurried along the now familiar streets, and reachedtheir destination in due course. The inn stood at no great distancefrom the harbour, and was in its palmy days a great resort both forthe soldiers of the fortress and the sailors who navigated thegreat river. It was a solid building, and though its roof had beenmuch damaged, and there was an ugly crack all down the front, itsfoundations were solid, and a little care and skill would soonrepair the damage. 

Fritz followed Humphrey into the big public room close to theentrance, and there he came face to face with Benjamin Ashley, whowas just saying farewell to Brigadier Murray, and whose honest facelighted with pleasure at the sight of the stalwart soldier. 

"It shall be seen to at once, Mr. Ashley, " the Commander wassaying. "I will set the men to work tomorrow, and in a few days theplace will be habitable. You shall have immediate possession, andthe sooner you can start business the better for all. We wantQuebec to be a town again, and not a ruin. We want to make friendsof the inhabitants, and show them that the conditions of life arenot altogether altered. We want them to trust us and to think of usas friends. I am sure you will help us in this. Nothing like goodwine and a jovial host to set men's tongues wagging in a friendlyfashion, and lighten their hearts of any load of fear anddespondency. "

Murray strode out, returning the salutes of his subordinates, andthe next minute Fritz and Ashley were exchanging a warm greeting. 

"Welcome to Quebec, my friend; it does the heart good to see youhere. Humphrey declared you had promised to come soon; but I hadnot dared to think it would be this side of the winter season. "

"Why, yes; I have been ready and waiting this long while. To tellthe truth, I have had enough of Philadelphia and its Quaker-riddenAssembly. Why, when once the war had broken out and was raging ingood earnest, I longed for nothing so much as my own youth backagain, that I might fight with the best of them. And the peacepalaver of the Quakers sickened me. I came near to quarrelling withsome of my old friends, and I grew eager to see fresh places, freshfaces. I turned it over in my mind, and I thought that if Quebecfell into our hands, English-speaking citizens would surely bewanted to leaven the French and Canadians who would remain. And ifso, why should not I be one to take up my abode?"

"Why not, indeed?" cried Fritz, whose eyes were eagerly strayinground the room in search of somebody he had not seen as yet. "Itwas a happy thought, as our Commander has just told you, I doubtnot. "

"He has been a capital friend--he has put me in possession of thisplace; and I can see that there will be the making of a finebusiness here. And I have not come empty-handed. I sold the oldtavern over yonder, and I have a fine store of wine and ale andsalted provisions stored away on board, enough to set me up for thewinter. 

"I must have that old sign down, " added Ashley, stepping into thestreet and looking up at the battered board crazily hanging fromthe beam above; "we must have another one up instead. I'll set up awolf's head in its place, in memory of the gallant soldier who fellon the Plains of Abraham. And I will call my inn the Wolfe ofQuebec. "

Fritz laughed, still looking round him with quick glances. 

"And what said your wife and daughter to such a move?"

"Oh, the wife is a good wife, and follows her husband; though Iwon't say she did not feel the wrench of parting a good bit. As forthe maid, she was wild to come! She has done nothing but think ofthe war ever since it began. She is half a soldier already, I tellher, and is making herself only fit to be a soldier's wife. Shemight have had the pick of all the young Quakers in Philadelphia;but you should have seen her turn up her pretty nose at them. "'AQuaker indeed!' quoth the little puss; 'I'd as lief marry abroomstick with a turnip for a head! Give me a man who is a man, not a puling woman in breeches!'

"The sauciness of the little puss!"

But Ashley's jolly laugh showed that he encouraged the maid in her"sauciness, " and Fritz and Humphrey laughed in sympathy. 

"Where are Mrs. Ashley and Susanna to be found?" asked Fritz whenthe laugh had subsided. 

K "Oh, somewhere in the house, poking and prying, and settling thethings in woman's fashion. Anything in the house is to be ours, andwe may buy cheap a quantity of the furniture which is being takenout of the houses which are too much shattered to be rebuilt. Wehave brought things of our own, too. Oh, we shall do well, we shalldo well. It was a capital thought to come here. Canada in Englishhands will have a great future before it. "

But Fritz was off already, leaving Humphrey to discuss thesituation with his brother-in-law. He was off in search of Susanna, and presently came upon her sitting upon a wide window ledge whichcommanded a view of the quay and harbour, and of the heights ofPoint Levi opposite. Hannah was taking housewifely notes on theupper floor; but the view from this window had fascinated the girl, and she sat gazing out, lost in thought, a thousand picturesflitting through her imaginative brain. 

"Susanna!" spoke a voice behind her. 

She started to her feet, quivering in every limb; and facing round, found herself confronted by him whose face and form had been thecentre of each of her mental pictures, whose name had been on herlips and in her heart each time she had bent her knees in prayerfor two long years, and who she knew had come at last to ask thefulfilment of that promise she had given him when last they hadparted. 

Her hands were in his; his face was bent over hers. He disengagedone hand, and put it round her shoulders, drawing her towards himgently. 

She did not resist; she gave a happy little sigh, and stood withher fair head close to his shoulder. 

"Susanna, I have done what I hoped. I am a captain in the EnglishKing's army. I have won some small reputation as a soldier. I havea position sufficiently assured. You have come to live at Quebec. Iam quartered there for the winter. Many of our officers andsoldiers have wives who follow them wherever they go. I would notask you to come to me to share hardship and privation; but I askyou to be my wife, here in this city, where your father's housewill give you shelter if I should be forced by the chances of warto leave you for a while. 

"Susanna, will you be brave enough for this? Can you make up yourmind to be a soldier's wife, even before the war has closed? I hadnot thought to ask you so soon; but year after year passes by, andthough nearer and ever nearer to the goal of peace, the cloudsstill hang in the sky, and there is still stern work for thesoldier to do. But we seem now to see the end of the long, longwar, and that a happy end; and so I ask if you can marry me, evenwith the chances of one of those separations which wring the heartand entail so much anxiety and sorrow upon the wife left at home. "

She was clinging to him even before he had done, shedding tears, and yet half laughing as she looked with dewy eyes into his face. 

"O Fritz, Fritz, don't you understand yet what a woman's love islike? As though I would not rather a hundred thousand times be yourwife, come what may in the future, than live the safest and mostsheltered life without you! As though I should not glory anddelight to share the perils and hardships you are called upon toendure! As though being together would not make up a hundredfoldfor everything else!"

When Benjamin Ashley, together with Humphrey and John Stark, camein search of the others, they all saw at a glance what had takenplace. Susanna's blushing face and Fritz's expression of proud, glad happiness told the tale all too plainly. But all had beenprepared for it; and Ashley laughed as he took his daughter's facebetween his hands and kissed it, though he heaved a quick sigh, too. 

"Ah me! so all the birds leave the nest at last. And nothing but ared-coat would serve your turn, my maid! That I have known for longenough. Well, well, I cannot blame you. We owe a debt of gratitudeto our brave soldiers which we must all be willing to pay. 

"Take her, Fritz my boy; take her, and her father's blessing withher. She will not come to you empty handed; she has a snug littlefortune from her mother ready for her dowry. But you have wooed herand won her like a man; and her love will be, if I mistake not, thecrown of your manhood and of your life. "

"Indeed it will, sir, " answered Fritz fervently, and possessedhimself of Susanna's hand once more. 

Barely a week later, and the party stood upon the quay to sayfarewell to their friends and comrades who were sailing away forEngland. October was waning. The departure of the ships could nolonger be delayed. Many had already gone; but today the mortalremains of the gallant Wolfe had been conveyed on board the RoyalWilliam, and all the town had come forth to pay its last tribute ofrespect to one who was mourned by friends and foes alike. Flagshung half-mast high, the guns had boomed a salute, and the bells ofthe city had tolled in solemn cadence as the coffin was borne tothe quay and reverently carried to the place prepared for it uponthe ship. 

Now all was bustle and animated farewell as the sailors began tomake preparations for unfurling the sails and hoisting up theanchor. Julian and Fritz stood together a little apart from thecrowd; their hands were locked in a close clasp. The tie whichbound them together was a very strong and tender one. 

"You will come back, Julian? you will not forsake these Westernlands, which must always seem to me more like home than any countrybeyond the seas--even England, which we call our home. You willcome back?"

"Yes, I shall come back; the lands of the great West ever seem tobe calling me. I do but go to make good my promise to him that isgone; then I shall return, and cast in my lot with the Englishsubjects of Canada. "

"They say you are to receive promotion, Julian. You will rise to bea man of place in this colony. I am certain of it. You havetalents, address, courage; and you are always beloved of French andEnglish alike. I have heard men talk of you, and point you out as arising man. They will want such over here when Canada has passedinto English keeping. "

"They will find me ready to do my best if ever they should desireto use me. I want nothing better than to serve my country, and toheal the wound between the two nations who have struggled so longfor supremacy in the West. "

"You will come back--I am sure of it--a man of place andimportance. But you will be the same Julian still, my brother andfriend. And, Julian (am I wrong in thinking it?), you will not comeback alone?"

A slight flush rose in Julian's face; but he answered quietly:

"I hope not; I believe not. "

"Mademoiselle Corinne--" began Fritz, but paused there; for thegirl was close beside them, having come up with her aunt, MadameDrucour, to say goodbye to the group of friends gathered to seethem off. 

Fritz saw the quick glance which flashed between her and Julian astheir eyes met, and he felt that he had got his answer. When Juliancame back to Canada, he would not come alone. 

The last farewells were said; the deck was crowded by those whowere to sail away; the musical call of the seamen rose and fell asthe sails unfurled to the breeze, and the gallant vessel began toslip through the water. 

"A safe voyage and a joyous return. God be with you all!" criedthose upon the quay. 

The Abbe lifted his hands, and seemed to pronounce a benedictionupon the departing ship, and those who saw the action bared theirheads and bent the knee. 

Then the sails swelled out, the pace increased; a salute boomedforth from the fortress behind, and was answered from the vesselnow gliding so fast away; and the Royal William moved with statelygrace through the wide waters of the St. Lawrence, and slowlydisappeared in the hazy distance. 

THE END.